NATIONAL  SONGS,  BALL  IDS, 


A*D 


PATRIOTIC  POETRY, 


CHIEFLY  RELATING  TO  THE  WAR  OF 


fc  J 


COMHBH)    IT 

WILLIAM    M'CARTY. 


ABELPHIA  : 
WILLIAM   M'CARTY. 


FROM   THE   LIBRARY   OF 
REV.    LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,   D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED    BY   HIM   TO 

THE    LIBRARY   OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY 


DMskaJ      SC  / 


NATIONAL  SONGljOTftfiSl-  1.934 


AND    OTHER 


PATRIOTIC  POETRY, 


CHIEFLY  RELATING  TO  THE  WAR  OP 


18  46. 


COMPILED    BY 

WILLIAM    M'C  ARTY, 


PHILADELPHIA  : 
PUBLISHED  BY  WILLIAM   M'CARTY. 


1846. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846,  by 

Wm.  M°Carty, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Eastern  District 

of  Pennsylvania. 


Stereotyped  by 

KOGRIDGE     AND     M'CARTT. 

Wm.  8.  Young,  Printer. 


Ctjig  Volume  i$  ^ebicateb 

To  the  officers,  non-commissioned  officers  and  privates, 
of  the  United  States  Army,  who,  on  the  8th  and  on 
the  9th  day  of  May,  1846,  with  matchless  skill,  and 
indomitable  courage,  sustained  their  own,  and  their 
country's  honor,  in  the  Battles  or  Palo  Alto  and 
Resaca  de  la  Palma  : 

BY  THE  COMPILER. 


NATIONAL  SONGS. 


From  Bennett's  New- York  Herald,  June  17,  1846. 
I         TAYLOR  ON  THE   RIO   GRANDE. 

Tune—"  The  Barking'  Barber,1* 

I  sing  a  doleful  tragedy 

That  late  befel  in  Texas, 
How  the  Mexicans  crossed  o'er  the  line, 

And  terribly  did  vex  us  ; 
That  is — they  would  have  vex'd  us  sore, 

And  folks  wont  soon  forget  them ; 
Their  will  was  good  t'  invade  our  soil, 
But  Taylor  wouldn't  let  them. 
Tow  row  row — 
Tol-de-ridy,  rol-de-ridy,  tow  row  row. 
II. 
Mejia  came  from  Mexico 

Brimful  of  blood  and  thunder — 
And  crossing  o'er  to  Taylor's  camp, 

Compelled  him  to  knock  under ; 
That  is — he  would  have  cross'd  the  stream 

With  bombs  and  balls,  and  powder  O, 

But  the  river  was  too  wide  to  jump,        * 

And  here  stood  "  Rough  and  Ready," 

Tow  row  row,  &c. 

1*  (5) 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 
III. 

Therefore  Mejia  staid  at  home, 

And  thence  attacked  our  "moral-*  %: 
Our  men  desert  by  regiments, 

And  officers  they  quarrel — eh  ? 
That  is — they  would  have  run  away, 

And  officers  the  race  a'  joined — 
But  Anglo-Saxons  cannot  run, 

Not  having  thus  been  disciplined. 
Tow  row  row,  &c. 
IV. 
Next  comes  Ampudia,  with  his  hosts 

Of  horses,  men,  and  asses,  O  ; 
With  these  he  breaks  up  Taylor's  (sraztL 

And  drives  him  o'er  the  Nueces.  0  ■ 
That  is — he  would  have  storm'd  the  .Id* 

And  kick'd  us  out  of  Texas,  O, 
But  on  our  flag  are  stripes  and  stars, 

And  ev'ry  star  protects  us,  O. 
Tow  row  row,  &c. 
V. 
Then,  last  of  all,  Arista  comes, 

And  sad  the  tale  it  is  to  tell, 
How  Taylor  muster'd  all  his  troops, 

And  cut  and  run  for  Isabel ; 
The  "  yellow  bellies"  starving  were. 

And  victuals  much  they  need  them  ; 
So  Taylor  ran  to  Isabel 

To  fetch  supplies  to  feed  them. 
Tow  row  row,  &c. 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 
VI. 

'Twas  like  the  road  we  read  about, 

Jerusalem  to  Jericho, 
The  thieves  do  him  both  strip  and  kL. 

And  then  they  hold  a  barbecue ; 
That  is — they  would  have  plundered  him 

Of  powder,  pork,  and  beeves,  you  know. 
If  they  had  been  good  managers, 

Or  e?en  ha'  been  good  thieves,  you  kisattc 
Tow  row  row,  &c. 
VII. 
Now  on  the  eighth  and  ninth  of  May, 

In  eighteen  hundred  forty-six, 
Full  three  to  one,  they  choose  their   grmsx 

Quite  sure  to  catch  him  in  a  fix  ; 
Arista  even  cook'd  a  feast, 

So  sure  was  he  of  victory, 
Which  he  resolved  to  celebrate 

With  song  and  wine  and  revelry. 
Tow  row  row,  &c. 

On  Taylor  came  and  met  the  foe 

All  marshalled  forth  so  pompously, 
And  there  he's  slain  two  thousand  men, 

All  chaw'd  up  catawampously ; 
That  is — he  would  have  sure  been  6lain, 

And  murder'd  without  quarter, 
For  caught  he  was,  and  by  the  foe, 

But  then  they  caught  a  Tartar  ! 
Tow  row  row,  &c. 


8  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

IX. 

And  now  the  deeds  of  those  two  days 

Were  ended  with  that  "  smoking  feast ;" 
They  all  did  dine,  both  friend  and  foe, 

Arista  too,  the  noblest  guest ; 
That  is — he  might  have  dined,  and  heard 

Our  Yankee  doodle  dandy  O, 
But  he  had  left  the  feast  behind, 

And  swam  the  Rio  Grande  O. 
Tow  row  row,  &c. 


2  SONG  OF  THE  MEMPHIS  VOLUNTEERS. 

Air— •"  Lucy  MaL" 

One  mornin'  bright  and  early, 
De  news  came  safe  to  hand, 
Dat  de  Mexicans  ten  thousand  strong, 
Had  cross'd  de  Rio  Grande ! 
O,  de  Rio  Grande,  O,  de  Rio  Grande, 
We  would  we  were  upon  your  banks, 
Wid  rifle  in  our  hand. 

We'd  raise  de  barrel  to  our  eye, 

Take  trigger  in  de  hand, 
Some  Memphis  thunder  soon  dey'd  hear, 

Or  leap  de  Rio  Grande. 
O,  de  Rio  Grande,  &c. 


O,  Memphis  is  a  mighty  place, 
Can  raise  a  fightin'  band, 


NATIONAL    SONGS, 

Dat  soon  are  ready  for  a  march 
To  rescue  Rio  Grande. 

O,  de  Rio  Grande,  &c. 

Wid  bosoms  to  de  shock  ob  war 

Boldly  we  would  stand, 
And  dar  present  a  noble  front 

On  de  riber  Rio  Grande 
O,  de  Rio  Grande,  &c. 

We  are  waitin'  for  our  orders 
To  shake  our  true  lub's  hand, 

To  shed  a  tear — then  haste  away 
To  rescue  Rio  Grande. 
O,  de  Rio  Grande,  &c. 

Now  ladies  will  you  remember, 
If  we  fall  as  soldiers  should, 
To  shed  for  us  a  secret  tear, 
A  tear  of  gratitude. 
And  now  for  de  Rio  Grande, 
And  now  for  de  Rio  Grande, 
We  would  we  were  already  dere, 
Wid  rifle  in  our  hand. 

Our  thanks  now  to  de  Memphis  gals, 
For  de  flags  under  which  we  stand, 
And  when  dey  hear  from  us  again, 
'Twill  be  from  de  Rio  Grande. 
We  are  bound  for  de  Rio  Grande, 
We  are  bound  for  de  Rio  Grande, 
We  would  we  were  already  dere, 
Wid  rifle  in  our  hand. 


10  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

[From  the  Pennsylvania!!.] 
3  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  MAJOR  RINGGOLD. 

The  bird  of  light  unfolds  her  wings, 

To  conquer  and  to  save, 
Yet  lingers  mournfully  above 

The  gallant  Ringgold's  grave. 
Oh  !  peaceful  may  he  ever  rest 

Within  that  fatal  dell, 
And  sacred  be  the  spot  whereon, 

The  gallant  hero  fell. 

He  may  slumber  on  in  silence  novo, 

Beneath  the  dewy  sod, 
But  died  he  not  for  Liberty, 

His  Country,  and  his  God  ? 
And  is  there  not  a  halo  cast 

About  his  very  name, 
That  passports  to  posterity 

And  everlasting  fame  1 

He  hastened  to  the  battle, 

Like  a  stray  beam  from  the  sun, 
And  foremost  in  the  flashing  fight 

Stood  thundering  at  his  gun ; 
With  quick  and  deadly  aim  swept  off 

The  invading  ranks  around, 
And  strewed  the  foes  of  Freedom  thick 

On  Freedom's  chosen  ground. 

Like  a  Christian  and  a  soldier, 
He  placed  his  trust  on  high, 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

And  looked  for  aid  alone  to  Him 
44 Who  dwelleth  in  the  sky;" 

Then  hurried  like  a  thunderbolt 
Where  death  and  carnage  moved, 

Encouraging  to  victory 
The  loving  and  the  loved. 

But  ah!  he  sleeps  all  dreamless  now 

Upon  a  distant  shore, 
And  views  the  glittering  stars  and  stripes 

Exultingly  no  more  ; 
There  peaceful  rest  his  honored  form ; 

Let  the  sea  his  requiem  swell, 
And  sacred  be  the  spot  whereon 

The  gallant  hero  fell. 
May  30th,  1846. 


4  A  WAR  SONG  FOR  THE  TEXAN  VOLUN- 
TEERS. 

Written  by  Caleb  Lyons,  Esq.  in  New  York,  May  18th, 
1846. 

INSCRIBED   TO  THE   HERO   OF   SAN  JACINTO. 

The  blood  of  our  brethren  yet  cries  from  the  ground 
Revenge,  and  our  country  doth  echo  the  sound ; 
O'er  hill-top  and  valley,  o'er  forest  and  plain, 
The  loud  shout  of  freemen  rolls  on  to  the  main. 
Montezuma's  decendants  will  raise  the  glad  cry— 
M  The  Saxons  are  coming,  our  freedom  is  nigh." 


, 


12  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

We'll  conquer  the  land  where  Mexican  reigns, 
And  break  for  the  people  their  cankering  chains — 
Too  long  hath  proud  tyrants  been  lording  it  o'er 
That  lovely,  long-fettered  and  beautiful  shore, 
And  blest  be  the  people  that  down-trodden  cry — 
kt  The  Saxons  are  coming,  our  freedom  is  nigh." 

We'll  avenge  every  wrong,  every  stain  wipe  away, 
And  children  unborn  will  yet  bless  the  proud  day, 
When  our  nation  uprose,  as  a  man,  sword  in  hand, 
And  defended  our  soil  from  a  merciless  band, 
While  the  Aztec  will  shout,  as  a  hymn  to  the  sky — 
"  The  Saxons  are  coming,  our  freedom  is  nigh." 

Brave  soldiers,  to  arms !  ye  are  valiant  and  strong, 
Come  shoulder  the  rifle,  the  sword  buckle  on  ; 
Arouse  in  your  might — let  the  Empire  State  feel 
A  wild  thrill  of  pride  in  your  patriot  zeal ; 
While  the  peals  of  our  cannon  will  thunder   on 

high— 
•'  The  Saxons  are  coming,  and  freedom  is  nigh." 

The  vultures  have  fed  on  the  bones  of  our  brave, 
Our  soldiers  now  bleed  by  the  Rio  Grande's  wave, 
But  when  Eagle  meets  Eagle,  in  bristling  array, 
By  the  blood  of  our  fathers,  we'll  conquer  that  day; 
God's*  voice,  in  the  people's,  comes  whispering  by — 
k'  The  Saxons  are  coming,  and  freedom  is  nigh." 


"Vox  Populi,  Vox  Dei.' 


NATIONAL     SONGS  13 

Then  up  with  our  banner,  the  pride  of  the  bold — 

Unconquered,  victorious,  it  floated  of  old; 

It  blinded  the  eyes  of  grim  despots  to  see 

The  light  of  its  stars  o'er  the  shores  of  the  free — 

And  now  it  will  vanquish — aye,  raise  it  on  high — 

Upheld  by  the  Saxons,  who'll  conquer  or  die. 


[From  the  Daily  Keystone.] 

O  The  following  Impromptu  rhyme  was  suggested  by 
the  names  of  our  Generals  at  present  serving  in  the 
army. 

What  land  seems  so  blest  in  her  General  means — 
Whether  at  Rio  Grande  or  at  New  Orleans — 
To  deal  to  invaders  a  terrible  blow, 
And  exhibit  how  freemen  can  deal  with  a  foe  1 

We  have  General  Wool,  for  a  clothing  of  glory, 

Though  that  Wool  should  be  found  on  the  battle- 
field gory, 

And  the  foe  can't  succeed,  though  for  triumph  he 
thirsted, 

Such  noble  material  could  never  be  worsted. 

And  as  every  tree  must  be  known  by  its  fruit, 
We  have  General  Taylor  to  follow  up  suit. 
And  the  Mexicans  know  from  the  lessons  he  teaches, 
That  they  must  cut  out  when   he's  making  the 
breaches ! 


14  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Then  in  General  reckoning,  we'll  have  on  the  plains 
To  add  to  our  triumph,  our  General  Gaines 
And  one  other  we'll  add,  for  indeed  there's  no  dearth 
Let  valor  be  known  by  its  General  Worth  ! 

Now  a  word  to  the  worthy  who  routed  the  gunners, 
One  American  Walker  make  thousands  of  runners, 
And  the  flowers  we  gathered  on  that  glorious  day, 
Were  the  richest  were  ever  produced  by  a  May ! 

Glorious  May,  sure  more  prizen  flowers  never  yet 

sprung 
From  our  soil,  that  that  day  on  thy  victory  hung, 
And  made  their  entwining  a  rich  floral  shield 
To  save  our  young  Freedom  on  liberty's  field  ! 

Success  to  our  eagle,  the  bird  of  the  free — 

May  her  pinion  still  soar  o'er  the  land  and  the  sea ; 

And  the  exile,  with  love  and  fidelity  cling 

To  the  liberty  found  'neaXh  her  fostering  wing ! 

Proud  land,  thrice  already  to  kings  have  you  shown, 
That  their  "  Holy  Alliance"  must  let  you  alone. 
No  Monarchist  minions  can  cause  you  alarms 
For  your  sons  are  secure  'gainst  a  world  in  arms ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  15 


RINGGOLD. 


Death  had  no  pangs— thy  duty  done, 
E'en  to  the  last,  with  gallant  zeal, 

'Mid  serried  hosts  righting  as  one 
That  felt  a  mighty  nation's  weal. 

With  soldiers'  tears  upon  thy  grave 
Thou  sleepest  by  a  deep  ravine — 

Where  cactus  blossoms  gaily  wave, 
And  the  palmetto's  form  is  seen. 

The  Indian  hunter  oft  will  pause 

With  lassoed  steed  beside  thy  mound, 

And  as  his  blanket  closer  draws, 

Will  think  he  hears  the  cannon's  sound. 

Thy  glorious  memory  is  enshrined 
In  every  patriot's  glowing  heart ; 

A  kingdom  was  thy  noble  mind — 
Where  love  of  country  reigned  apart. 

In  thy  last  moments  did  a  dream 
Of  early  love — of  distant  years 

Fill  thy  bosom  with  a  beam 

Of  hope,  amid  life's  darker  fears'? 

If  so,  how  transient  was  the  thought 
That  faded,  as  a  sparkling  tide, 

And  this  inspiring  murmur  brought — 

"Thou'st  bravely  for  thy  country  died." 


16  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

A  laurel  wreath  we  give  to  thee, 
All  glittering  with  blood  and  tears ; 

Yet,  thine  a  coronal  shall  be 
Of  glory,  amid  countless  years. 


The  following  song,  published  in  several  of  the  news- 
papers before  the  recent  events  on  the  Rio  Grande,  will 
be  read  or  sung  with  a  melancholy  interest — a  just 
tribute  to  the  gallant  artillerists,  and  to  their  lamented 
leader. 

[From  the  Boston  Daily  Times.] 
7  "FIRE   AWAY." 

THE   SONG   OF   RINGGOLD'S  ARTILLERISTS. 

The  Mexican  bandits 

Have  crossed  to  our  shore, 
Our  soil  has  been  dyed 

With  our  countrymen's  gore ; 
The  murderer's  triumph 

Was  their's  for  a  day : — 
Our  triumph  is  coming — 

So  fire — fire  away  ! 

Fire  away ! 

Be  steady — be  ready — 

And  firm  every  hand — 
Pour  your  shot  like  a  storm 

On  the  murderous  band. 
On  their  flanks,  on  their  centre, 

Our  batteries  play — 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  17 


And  we  sweep  them  like  chaff, 
As  we  fire — fire  away  ! 

Firp  flwfiv  ! 


-lire  away  : 

Fire  away ! 


Lo !  the  smoke-wreaths  uprising  ! 

The  belching  flames  tear 
Wide  gaps  through  the  curtain, 

Revealing  despair. 
Torn  flutters  their  banner — 

No  oriflamme  gay: 
They  are  wavering — sinking — 

So  fire — fire  away  ! 

Fire  away ! 

'Tis  over — the  thunders 

Have  died  on  the  gale — 
Of  the  wounded  and  vanquished 

Hark  !  hark  to  the  wail ! 
Long  the  foreign  invader 

Shall  mourn  for  the  day, 
When  Ringgold  was  summoned 

To  fire — fire  away  ! 

Fire  away ! 


THE  AMERICAN'S  BATTLE  PRAYER. 

Tune — "Druids'  Chorus,  Norma." 

Oh,  Washington,  our  sainted  sire, 
Pour  in  our  souls  thy  patriot  fire, 
Against  the  foul  conspiring  foe, 
Arouse  each  patriot  heart  below, 
2* 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Each  freeman's  soul  then  bounding, 
Like  waves  the  rocks  surrounding, 
Shall  raise  his  battle-blade  on  high, 
Till  ev'ry  foe  shall  prostrate  lie. 

Yes,  on  ev'ry  blood-stained  field, 
Where  Texian  hearts  swore  ne'er  to  yield, 
Or  by  Oregon's  proud  rocky  height, 
The  foe  shall  feel  a  freeman's  might, 
'Neath  swords  and  banners  gleaming, 
The  foe  with  life-blood  streaming, 
Shall  yield  each  rightful  soil  our  own, 
And  freedom's  sons  shall  rule  alone. 

'Neath  swords  and  banners,  &c 


OREGON  AND   TEXAS. 

Tune— -"  Dan  Tucker.*' 

Hare  !  Freedom's  eagle  loudly  calls, 
His  cry  rings  through  our  hills  and  halls, 
He  calls  to  arms  each  freedom's  son, 
For  Texas  and  for  Oregon. 

Then  march  away, 

Then  march  away, 

March  away,  'tis  freedom  becks  us, 

On  for  Oregon  and  Texas. 

All  Mexico's  foul  traitor  hordes, 
Have  threatened  us  by  boasting  words ; 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  19 

But  for  big  words  we'll  give  them  deeds, 
Until  each  croaking  tyrant  bleeds. 

Then  march  away,  &c. 

On  San  Jacinto's  bloody  plain, 
Her  murdered  sons  shall  rise  again, 
And  cry  aloud  on  to  the  war, 
"  Remember  our  foul  massacre." 

Then  march  away,  &c. 

Then  shall  each  freeman's  bright  eye  glow, 
For  vengeance  on  the  murd'rous  foe, 
The  spot  where  ev'ry  patriot  fell, 
Shall  echo  ev'ry  tyrant's  knell. 

Then  march  away,  &c. 

Then  freemen  rouse  from  south  to  north, 
Come  quickly  arm,  and  boldly  forth, 
Come  raise  on  high  the  Texas  star, 
And  Oregon's  proud  flag  of  war. 

Then  march  away,  &c. 

Beneath  each  flag  we'll  brave  the  foe, 
From  Britain  unto  Mexico, 
And  on  the  sea,  or  o'er  the  land, 
We'll  fight  till  they  give  up  each  strand. 
Then  march  away,  &c. 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

[From  the  Cincinnati  Commercial.] 
10  E.  PLURIBUS    UNUM. 

BY  G.  W.  CUTTER. 

Tho'  many  and  bright  are  the  stars  that  appear 

In  the  flag,  by  our  country  unfurl'd  ; 
And  the  stripes  that  are  swelling  in  majesty  there, 

Like  rain-bows  adorning  the  world  ; 
Their  light  is  unsullied,  as  those  in  the  sky, 

By  a  deed  that  our  fathers  have  done, 
And  they're  leagued  in  as  true  and  as  holy  a  tie, 

In  that  motto  of  "  many  in  one." 

From  the  hour  when  those  patriots  fearlessly  flung 

Their  banner  of  star-light  abroad, 
Ever  true  to  themselves,  to  that  motto  they  clung, 

As  they  clung  to  the  promise  of  God. 
By  the  bayonet  trac'd,  at  the  midnight  of  war, 

On  the  fields  where  our  glory  was  won ; 
Oh  !  perish  the  heart  or  the  hand  that  would  mar 

That  motto  of—"  many  in  one." 

'Mid  the  smoke  of  the  conflict — the  cannon's  deeo 
roar — 
How  oft  it  hath  gathered  renown, 
While    those    stars    were   reflected    in    rivers    of 
gore, 
Where  the  cross  and  the  lion  went  down ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  21 

And  tho'  few  were  their  lights,  in  the  gloom  of  that 
hour, 
Yet  the  hearts  that  were  striking  below, 
Had   God   for  their  bulwark,  and  truth   for  their 
power, 
And  they  stop'd  not  to  number  the  foe. 

From  where  our  green  mountain  tops  blend  with  the 
sky, 

And  the  giant  St.  Lawrence  is  roll'd, 
To  the  waves  where  balmy  Hesperides  lie, 

Like  the  dream  of  some  prophet  of  old, 
They  conquered !  and,  dying,  bequeathed  to  our  care, 

Not  this  boundless  dominion  alone, 
But  that  banner,  whose  loveliness  hallows  the  air 

And  their  motto  of—"  many  in  one." 

We  are  many  in  one,  while  there  glitters  a  star, 

In  the  blue  of  the  heavens  above, 
And  tyrants  shall  quail  'mid  their  dungeons  afar, 

When  they  gaze  on  that  motto  of  love. 
It  shall  gleam  o'er  the  sea  'mid  the  bolt  of  the  storm 

Over  tempest,  and  battle,  and  wreck ; 
And  flame  were  our  guns  with  their  thunder  grow 
warm, 

'Neath  the  blood  on  the  slippery  deck. 

The  oppress'd  of  the  earth  to  that  standard  shall  fly 

Wherever  its  folds  shall  be  spread, 
And  the  exile  shall  feel  'tis  his  own  native  sky 

Where  its  stars  shall  float  over  his  head. 


22  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

And  those  stars  shall  increase  till   the   fulness  of 
time, 
Its  millions  of  cycles  have  run, 
Till  the  world  shall  have  welcomed  their  mission 
sublime, 
And  the  nations  of  earth  shall  be  one. 

Tho'  the  old  Allegheny  may  tower  to  heaven, 

And  the  father  of  waters  divide, 
The  links  of  our  destiny  cannot  be  riven, 

While  the  truth  of  those  words  shall  abide. 
Then,    oh!    let    them    glow  on  each  helmet  and 
brand, 

Tho'  our  blood  like  our  rivers  should  run ; 
Divide  as  we  may  in  our  own  native  land, 

To  the  rest  of  the  world  we  are  one. 

Then  up  with  our  flag !  let  it  stream  on  the  air  ! 

Tho'  our  fathers  are  cold  in  their  graves, 
They  had  hands  that  could  strike,  they  had  souls 
that  could  dare, 

And  their  sons  were  not  born  to  be  slaves, 
Up  !  up  !  with  that  banner,  where  e'er  it  may  call, 

Our  millions  shall  rally  around, 
And  a  nation  of  freemen  that  moment  shall  fall 

When  its  stars  shall  be  trailed  on  the  ground. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  23 


11      LINES  ON   THE    DEATH   OF   MAJOR 
RINGGOLD. 

Oh,  leave  not  his  corse  on  that  wild  battle  plain, 
Tho'  the  field  where  his  honors  were  won ; 

Warm  hearts  here  at  home  claim  his  urn  as  their 
own ; 
Give  Columbia  the  manes  of  her  son. 

Let  him  rest  in  the  land  that  he  died  to  defend ; 

Let  him  pillow  his  head  on  its  sod ; 
The  wreath   round  his  brow  let  us    freshen  with 
tears, 

While  his  soul  dwells  above  with  his  God. 

We  loved  him  before,  but  we  worship  him  now, 
And  could  hallow  the  spot  where  he  fell, 

When  the  cries  of  his  foes  were  a  funeral  choir, 
And  the  blast  of  the  clarion  his  knell. 

He's  worthy  his  grandsire,  his  country,  his  name, 
And  his  deeds  will  their  glory  increase — 

His  life  has  been  passed  'mid  the  tumults  of  war, 
Let  the  grave  of  the  hero  breathe  peace. 

Then  leave  not  his  corse  on  that  wild  battle  plain, 
Tho'  the  field  where  his  honors  were  won  ; 

Warm  hearts  here  at  home  claim  his  urn  as  their 
own ; 
Give  Columbia  the  manes  of  her  Son. 

Baltimore,  June  2d,  1846.  clara  ellis. 


24  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

1 2  RINGGOLD. 

Why  weep  ye  him  that's  gone  1 

Is  not  life's  shortest  fever  always  best  1 

Ah !  he,  who  sleeps  with  greenest  laurels  won, 
May  well  contented  rest 

He  is  not  dead  to  fame ; 

But,  like  a  star,  in  glory  dwells  apart, 
Who  leaves  behind  him  an  immortal  name, 

Shrined  in  a  nation's  heart. 

Yet,  soldier  !  well  may'st  thou 

Weep  for  a  warrior-hero  such  as  he, 
Upon  whose  resolute,  heroic  brow 

Sat  confident  Victory. 

Clasp  tenderly,  oh  Earth  ! 

The  son  we  have  restored  to  thy  embrace ; 
For  many  a  child  from  thee  shall  spring  to  birth, 

Ere  one  can  fill  his  place. 

Disturb  not  his  repose — 

He    sweetly    sleeps,    who    sleeps    with     honor 
crowned, 
And  that  brief  hillock,  where  the  rank  grass  grows, 

Is  Freedom's  holiest  ground. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  25 

[From  the  Baltimore  Sun.] 
1 3  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  MAJOR  RINGGOLD. 

BY  E.  C.  JONES. 

"  Don't  stay  with  me,  you  have  work  to  do  ;  go  ahead/" 

No,  stay  not  here,  to  strife  away, 
Soon  life  must  cease  its  bounding  play 

And  I  at  rest  be  laid — - 
This  crimson  from  my  wound  which  flows, 
Should  nerve  thy  arm  against  our  foes 

When  my  last  debt  is  paid. 

Not  on  the  downy  couch  at  home, 
Where  lov'd  ones  to  my  side  would  cane. 

Would  I  desire  to  die — 
But  where  the  rattling  volley 's  given, 
While  heroes  'neath  the  arch  of  Heaven 

Are  pealing  "  Victory !" 

No,  stay  not  here,  upon  the  field 
My  spirit  joyously  I  yield, 

With  few  to  note  its  flight — 
Here,  gazing  on  the  banner's  fold, 
Whose  stars  and  stripes  won  fame  of  old, 

I  sink  to  shades  of  night. 

On  to  the  rescue  comrade,  on  ! 
This  day  be  glorious  laurels  won. 

To  twine  around  thy  brow — 
We  promised  each  with  purpose  high, 
To  conquer  in  the  strife,  or  die — 

Go  and  redeem  the  vow. 
3 


^6  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

The  bugle's  clang,  the  cannon's  roar 
Re-echo  on  my  ear  no  more, 

Nor  rouse  me  to  the  fray — 
But,  comrade,  thou  dost  yet  remain, 
Go,  and  the  warrior's  chaplet  gain 

Haste  to  the  ranks  away. 

He  spake,  and  yielded  to  his  doom, 
For  soon  the  dim  sepulchral  gloom 

Had  settled  round  his  brow — 
But,  nobly  had  he  done  his  part, 
And  deep  within  Columbia's  heart 

His  name  is  treasured  now. 


[From  the  American  Eagle.] 
14   SEE  OUR  TORN   FLAG  STILL  WAVING. 

BY  JAMES  W.  PORTER. 

See  our  torn  flag  still  waving 

Rally  round  it  in  your  might, 
Each  his  position  firmly  holding, 

Heaven  will  aid  those  in  the  right. 
From  each  rocky  hill  and  valley 

Rise  against  the  invading  band, 
In  the  name  of  Freedom  rally, 

To  defend  your  Native  Land. 

Foemen  now  your  soil  are  pressing^ 
They,  your  laws  and  rights  defy, 

Ask  from  Heaven  a  father's  blessing. 
Then  for  Freedom  dare  to  die. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  27 

What  though  ruthless  foes  assail  you, 
Who  in  bloody  deeds  take  pride, 

Let  not  hope  or  courage  fail  you, 
Freedom's  God  is  on  your  side. 

Freemen,  rise  !  ye  that  inherit 

From  a  line  of  noble  sires, 
Manly  blood  and  manly  spirit, 

Rise  to  guard  your  household  fires. 
By  the  parents  that  have  rear'd  you, 

By  your  wives  and  children  dear, 
Lest  those  loved-ones  should  scorn  you 

Rise,  without  a  thought  of  fear. 

Come,  as  comes  the  tempest  rushing, 

Bending  forests  in  its  path : 
As  the  mountain  torrent  gushing, 

As  the  billows  id  their  wrath  ; 
From  each  rocky  hill  and  valley, 

Sweep  away  the  invading  band  ; 
In  the  name  of  Freedom  rally, 

To  defend  your  Native  Land. 


15   THE   AMERICAN   REPUBLICAN   FLAG. 

BY  ROBERT  E.  H.  LEVERING 

Air — "  Martyn%" 

Noblest  Flag  on  land  or  sea, 
Sign  and  seal  of  victory — 
Sign  of  freedom  nobly  won, 
Seal  that  marks  it  shall  go  on ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Never  shall  its  stars  expire, 
Glitt'ring  down  the  patriot's  fire, — 
Never  shall  those  stripes  declare 
Stripes  we  gave,  ourselves  shall  share ! 

Banneret  that  wav'd  to  fight, 
Conquerors  for  truth  and  right, 
Still  thou  speakest  to  the  free, 
"  Freemen  live,  and  Freemen  die  !" 
By  our  father's  deathless  fame 
We  shall  hand  it  down  the  same 
By  our  country's  might  we  swear, 
It  shall  wave  in  peace  and  war ! 

Banner  of  the  starry  host, 
Telling  that  in  Heav'n  we  trust, — 
Of  the  mingling  stripes  that  prove 
Freemen  bound  by  chords  of  love ! 
Thou  shalt  'round  our  altars  wave, 
Whisp'ring  God  alone  can  save, — 
'Round  our  liberties  unveil, 
Truth  is  great,  and  must  Prevail  ! 

Beacon  Flag,  that  o'er  the  sea 
Woos  the  pilgrim  bands  to  thee, 
Bidding,  as  their  chains  they  leave, 
Man  with  man  as  men  to  live, — 
Cherisher  of  holy  fire, 
Thou  shalt  better  hope  inspire, 
Give  to  Freedom,  ever  new, 
Joys  their  bosoms  leap  to  know ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Spotless  Banner  !  ev'ry  land 
Shall  thy  whisper'd  truths  command, — 
Chains  of  body,  and  of  mind 
Fall  as  wide  those  truths  extend, — 
Thou  shalt  Freedom's  glory  blaze, 
Thou  shalt  speak  Columbia's  praise, 
Showing  in  thy  starry  state, 
Only  Freedom's  sons  are  great ! 
Lancaster,  0. 


1©  AMERICAN  COIN.— A  NATIONAL   SONG. 

BY  S.  A.  ELLIOT. 

Tune — U^3A,  what  is  the  bosom's  commotion  I" 

Ye  sons  of  Columbia,  who  glory 

At  Liberty's  banner  unfurl'd, 
While  prizing  her  "  eagles"  before  ye, 

Their  moral  send  over  the  world. 

CHORUS. 

Let  "  Liberty"  long  be  our  motto, 

And  high  may  her  bright  banner  wave, 

And  he  who  don't  value  her  blessings, 
Deserves  to  be  spurn'd  as  a  slave .' 

Long  may  the  bright  stars  of  our  Union 

Illumine  the  motto  of  all — 
May  Liberty  frown  down  Disunion, 
,     And  millions  exult  in  her  fall. 

Chorus,  &c. 
3* 


30  NATIONAL    SONGS.  1 

See  the  shield  on  the  breast  of  our  bird 

Imperious  to  every  blow 
T'  assail  which  is  vain  and  absurd — 

The  shafts  but  recoil  on  the  foe. 

Ononis  ic<r 

The  arrows  of  war  are  seen  next, 
Tc  be  thrown  at  invaders  of  right, 

And  "  E  pluribus  unum"  the  text 
That  expresses  in  union  there's  might. 

Cbmss  &c 

The  emblem  of  peace  is  aisplay'd 
When  battle  and  courage  are  o'er, 

That  those  who  in  fight  were  array'd 
Remember  their  contests  no  more. 

Chcrus  itc 

Now  may  all  the  poor  of  our  Nation, 
Possess  "eagles"  bright,  in  each  purse, 

And  ever  be  free  from  taxation, 
And  Tyranny  viewed  as  a  curse. 

Chorus  fcs 

Here's  a  health  to  the  good  and  the  great, 
In  every  part  of  the  earth, 
.    With  the  hope,  that,  at  no  distant  date, 
All  men  shall  know  Liberty's  worth ! 

CHORUS. 

Let  "  Liberty"  long  be  our  motto,  &c. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  31 


From  Park  Benjamin's  Western  Continent,  Balii. 

mare,  Juae  20th,  1846.] 

17  RESACA   DE   LA   PALMA. 

Come  and  listen,  while  I  tell  of  the  battle  that  befol 
On  the  frontiers  of  our  country,  one  pleasant  morn 
in  May : 
When  the  Mexicans  came  forth  o'er  the  "  River  of 
the  North," 
FilJed  with  hopes  of  easy  ccncuest,  filled  witn 
ardor  for  the  fray. 

We  had  marched,  with  measured  tramp,  from  on: 
sadly  furnished  camp, 
Through  a  wild  and  broken  country  to  our  Port  at 
Isabel ; 
Fcr  our  food  was  failing  fast,  and  our  powder  would 
not  last, 
And.  to  silence  Matamoras,  were  in  want  of  shot 
and  shell. 

Having  loaded  our  supplies,  word  was  brought  us  by 
our  spies, 
That  the  Mexicans  were  waiting  us,  with  twice; 
three  thousand  men ; 
So  we  knew  we  had  to  fight,  but  we  heard  it  with 
de..ight, 
Though  we  numbered  with  the  enemy  as  scarcely 
four  to  ten. 


32  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

?oon  we  came  to  where  they  stood,  flanked  by  water 
and  by  wood, 
And  their  cannon  swept  the  road — but  we  saw  it 
undismayed ; 
Though  our  General,  at  the  best,  was  indifferently 
dressed, 
In  a  dingy  green  frock  coat  and  in  pants  of  cot- 
tonade. 

And  a  broken  old  straw  hat ;  but  we  did  not  care  for 
that — 
For  calm  resolve  was  on  his  brow  and  fire  within 
his  eye, 
As  he  turned  to  Captain  May,  and  we  heard  him 
coldly  say, 
"Yonder  cannon  must  be  ours;  you  must  take 
them,  sir,  or  die  !" 

Quickly  then  he  to  us  rode,  while  his  heart  with 
daring  glowed — 
The  high   heroic   heart  of   the   gallant  Captain 
May— 
And  we  saw  his  beard   and   hair,  streaming  back 
upon  the  air, 
As,   passing    on,   he    shouted—"  Charge !"    and 
boldly  led  the  way. 

Oh !  they  heard  us  from  afar,  ringing  out  our  wild 
hurrah, 
And  they  looked  on  one  another,  and  their  swar- 
thy cheeks  were  pale ; 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  33 

For  they  felt  that,  if  we  came,  though  they  vomited 
out  flame, 
Nor  cannon  balls,  nor  musquetry,  nor  courage 
could  avail. 

First,  we  broke  into  a  trot,  till  we  felt  the  foemen's 
shot,  r 

Then,  like  resistless  torrent,  or  a  storm- wind  in 
its  wrath, 
Onward,  onward  we  went  dashing— o'er  the  breast- 
work we  went  crashing, 
And,  through  and  through  the  Mexicans,  we  cut 
our  bloody  path. 

Hand  to  hand,  with  che  brand,  wherever  they  would 
stand, 
We  cut,  and  we  thrust,  and  we  gallopped  to  and 
fro — 
Till  they  scattered  were  pell-mell,  like  the  bursting 
of  a  shell, 
And  we  thought  it  all  unmanly  to  strike  a  flying 
foe. 

Honor  to  "Rough  and  Ready,"  with  his  mien  so 
calm  and  steady, 
And  honor  to  brave  Captain  May,  and  honor  to 
the  slain — 
Worthy  subject  of  old  Runes  were  the  onslaught  of 
Dragoons, 
Who  fought  the  fight,  and  won  the  fight,  upon  our 
Texan  plain ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

[From  the  Washington  Union.] 
18  THE   FLAG   OF   THE    UNION. 

BY  MRS.  E.  L.  SCHERMERHORN. 

Oh  !  rend  it  not — still  let  it  wave 

That  star-gemmed  flag",  o'er  land  and  sea, 
The  cherished  signal  of  the  brave, 

The  glorious  banner  of  the  free; 
Still  let  its  eagle  soar  on  high, 

Its  stripes  still  fresh,  its  stars  still  bright, 
No  tempest  in  the  smiling  sky, 

No  gathering  cloud  to  quench  their  light. 
Oh !  plant  it  on  each  glorious  spot, 
Unfurl  it  wide,  but  rend  it  not. 

There  comes  a  voice  from  every  plain, 

From  every  mount  of  strife  and  glory, 
Where  valor's  blood  hath  left  a  stain, 

Or  history  found  a  theme  for  story ; 
From  Bunker  Hill,  from  Bennington, 

From  glorious  York  the  cry  is  heard ; 
From  vale  to  mount  the  sound  rolls  on, 

And  e'er  the  ocean  depths  are  stirred ; 
From  every  fame-remembered  spot 
The  cry  is  heard,  Oh  !  rend  it  not ! 

Oh !  by  the  chiefs  whose  awful  form 
Are  bending  from  the  starry  sky, 

Who  bore  that  flag  through  war's  wild  storms, 
And  proud  and  glorious  bade  it  fly, 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  35 

Their  blood-bought  gift  do  not  despise, 
The  proudest  gift  a  nation  knows — 
A  flag,  bright  streaming  to  the  skies, 
That  droops  not  to  its  vaunting  foes ; 
Oh  !  be  the  treasure  ne'er  forgot — 
Unfurl  it  wide  but  rend  it  not. 

Oh  !  ye,  the  sons  of  noble  sires, 

Who  bravely  struggled  side  by  side, 
Where  blazed  the  tented  field's  watch-fires, 

Or  navies  pressed  the  surging  tide ; 
Shall  petty  bickerings  rend  the  tie, 

The  oath  fraternal  sealed  with  blood  ? — 
Shall  that  proud  banner  cease  to  fly, 

A  victor  flag  o'er  field  and  flood  1 
No !  be  the  Union  ne'er  forgot — 
Unfurl  it  wide,  but  rend  it  not. 


[From  the  Daily  Globe.] 
19        SONG   OF   THE   VOLUNTEERS. 

BY  OUR  JONATHAN. 

Tune—"  Old  Dan  Tucktr." 

The  Mexicans  are  on  our  soil, 

In  war  they  wish  us  to  embroil ; 

They've  tried  their  best  and  worst  to  vex  us 

By  murdering  our  brave  men  in  Texas. 
Chorus — We're  on  our  way  to  Rio  Grande, 
On  our  way  to  Rio  Grande, 
On  our  way  to  Rio  Grande, 
And  with  arms  they'll  find  us  handy. 


36  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

We  are  the  boys  who  fear  no  noise, 

We'll  leave  behind  us  all  our  joys 

To  punish  those  half-savage  scamps, 

Who've  slain  our  brethren  in  their  camps. 
Chorus — We're  on  our  way  to  Matamoras, 
On  our  way  to  Matamoras, 
On  our  way  to  Matamoras, 
And  we'll  drive  them  all  before  us. 

They've  slaughtered  Porter,  Kain  and  Cross — 
Most  deeply  we  deplore  their  loss — 
Those  bloody  deeds  we'll  make  them  rue 
And  pay  them  off  for  old  and  new  ! 

We're  on  our  way  to  Matamoras,  &c. 

We'll  cross  the  famous  Rio  Grande, 
Engage  the  villains  hand  to  hand, 
And  punish  them  for  all  their  sins 
By  stripping  off  their  yellow  skins. 
We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

Herrera  and  Pared es  too, 
And  all  the  chiefs  of  the  vile  crew 
We'll  show  unto  their  lazzaroni- 
Mounted  on  a  wooden  pony 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

And  when  we've  punished  them  enough 
We'll  make  them  shell  us  out  the  stuff, 
To  pay  the  war's  expense,  and  then 
We'll  have,  besides,  old  Yucatan ! 
We're  on  our  way,  &c. 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Meanwhile  our  brethren  in  the  west 
Will  for  our  nation  do  their  best, 
And  when  they've  ended  their  long*  journey 
Our  flag  will  float  in  California. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

The  world  is  wide,  our  views  are  large, 
We're  sailing  on  in  Freedom's  barge, 
Our  God  is  good  and  we  are  brave, 
From  tyranny  the  world  we'll  save. 
We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

We  have  a  mission  to  fulfil, 
And  every  drop  of  blood  we'll  spill, 
Unless  the  tyrants  of  our  race 
Come  quail  before  our  eagle's  face. 
We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

He  is  thrice  armed  whose  quarrel's  just, 
And  we  fight  now  because  we  must, 
And  any  force  that  would  us  stop, 
Down  to  the  earth  must  surely  drop. 
We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

John  Bull  may  meddle  if  he  please, 
But  he  had  better  keep  at  ease, 
For  we  are  strong  by  sea  and  land — 
If  he  don't  mind  we'll  have  old  Ireland  ! 
We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

So  every  honest  volunteer 
May  now  come  forth — the  coast  is  clear ; 
4 


38  NATIONAL    SONGS. 

We  ask  no  odds,  but  we  are  bent 
On  having  this  whole  continent. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

We  go  for  equal  rights  and  laws, 
We'll  bravely  fight  in  Freedom's  cause, 
And  though  the  world  may  take  the  field, 
To  tyrants  we  will  never  yield. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

The  God  of  War,  the  mighty  Mars, 
Has  smiled  upon  our  stripes  and  stars ; 
And  spite  of  any  ugly  rumors 
We'll  vanquish  all  the  Montezumas! 

We're  on  our  way  to  Matamoras, 
On  our  way  to  Matamoras, 
On  our  way  to  Matamoras, 
And  we'll  conquer  all  before  us ! 


From  the  Dollar  Newspaper.] 
20  ODE   FOR   THE   FOURTH   OF   JULY. 

Air— "Hail  to  the  Chief." 
BY  MRS.  H.  LIGHTHIPE. 

Hail  to  the  day,  when  our  country  reposes, 

Flushed  with  the  honors  her  glory  hath  won, 
Bright  as  the  star  that  her  rising  discloses — 
Free  as  the  eagle  that  soars  to  the  sun. 
Ever  united  be 
Glory  and  Liberty, 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  39 

Forming  a  bulwark  to  circle  the  free  ; 

Then,  though  the  battle-cry 

Sound  as  it  passes  by, 
Firm  in  its  own  strength  it  ever  shall  be. 

Long  was  the  struggle  that  made  us  a  nation, 

And  blest  were  their  spirits  for  scorning  to  bow ; 
For  when  they  arose  from  the  war's  desolation, 
They  planted  the  flag  that  is  over  us  now. 
Yet  does  that  banner  wave 
Over  the  dead  and  brave  ! 
Still  does  it  float  for  the  living  and  free : 
Where  the  hill  breezes  furl — 
Where  the  blue  waters  curl — 
Stainless  in  beauty  it  ever  shall  be. 

Not  the  wild  flash  of  a  meteor's  glory 

Was  the  broad  light  that  is  given  to  us — 
Not  the  weak  strain  of  a  troubadour's  story 
Told  to  the  ear  and  then  breathed  on  the  dust. 
Upward,  and  onward  still, 
Till  the  whole  world  is  fill'd— 
Till  every  nation  its  glory  may  see ! 
From  the  earth's  widest  ken 
Bring  forth  their  homage  then — 
First  of  all  people  it  ever  shall  be. 

Hail  to  the  birth  of  our  great  Independence  ! 

Shout  for  the  day  as  it  ever  returns ! 
Call  on  the  name  of  our  country's  defenders, 

And  know  if  our  spirit  yet  fervently  burns. 


40  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Home  where  the  weary  rest ! 

Shelter  for  all  opprest ! 
Heaven's  wide  blessing  be  ever  on  thee  ! 

Sons  of  our  freedom  then 

Shout  forth  the  boast  again — 
First  of  all  people  it  ever  shall  be. 


The  following  was  composed  by  a  Member  of  the 
Hickory  Blues,  New  York,  and  sang  at  a  meeting  of 
the  Company  together  with  other  citizens,  on  the  first 
of  June  1846 — and  published  in  Bennett's  New  York 
Herald. 

2!  1  Tune—"  Lucy  Jfeal." 

Come  all  ye  gallant  volunteers, 

Who  fear  not  life  to  lose, 
The  martial  drum  invites  ye,  come 
And  join  the  Hickory  Blues. 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues, 
The  daring  Hickory  Blues — 
To  Mexico  they'll  proudly  go, 
The  gallant  Hickory  Blues. 

Our  flag  is  freedom's  sunlit  gem, 
Its  stars  light  where  we  choose, 

And  the  gallant  hearts  that  b^ar  it  on 
Are  the  gallant  Hickory  Blues ! 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues,  &c. 

The  city's  pride  are  now  arrayed — 
Their  service  none  refuse ; 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  41 

And  sire  and  son  together  on 
To  join  the  Hickory  Blues. 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues,  &c. 

Like  Warren,  see  them  leave  their  homes, 

And  flock  in  armed  crews, 
To  flog. the  foe  at  Mexico, 

Like  gallant  Hickory  Blues. 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues,  &c. 

When  our  country  is  invaded, 

With  bayonet,  bomb,  and  fuze, 
'Tis  no  time  to  rest  on  beauty's  breast, 

But  arm  with  Hickory  Blues ! 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues,  &c. 

Brave  Hickory  rests  in  Heaven, 

But  from  aloft  he  views, 
In  grateful  pride,  his  ready  sons, 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues,  &c. 

Colonel  Ming  he  is  our  leader, 

A  better  we  can't  choose, 
For  well  he'll  fight  in  Freedom's  right, 

Beside  the  Hickory  Blues ! 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues,  &c. 

We  soon  shall  march  for  Mexico, 
And  soon  you'll  hear  the  news 
Of  the  name  and  fame  of  New  York's  sons, 
The  gallant  Hickory  Blues! 

The  gallant  Hickory  Blues,  &c. 
4" 


42  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

2S  TO  JOHN   BULL. 

I  wonder  John,  if  you  forget,  some  sixty  years  ago, 

Wh$n  we  were  very  young,  John,  your  head  was 
white  as  snow ; 

You  didn't  count  us  much,  John,  and  thought  to 
make  us  run, 

But  found  out  your  mistake,  John,  one  day  at  Lex- 
ington. 

And  when  we  ask'd  you  in,  John,  to  take  a  cup  of 
tea, 

Made  in  Boston  harbor,  John,  the  tea-pot  of  the  free, 

You  didn't  like  the  party,  John,  it  wasn't  quite  se- 
lect, 

There  were  some  aborigines,  you  didn't  quite  ex- 
pect. 

You  didn't  like  their  manners,  John,  you  couldn't 

stand  their  tea, 
And  thought  it  got  into  their  heads,  and  made  them 

quite  too  free ; 
But  you  got  very  tipsy,  John,  (vou  drink  a   little 

still,) 
The  day  you  marched  across  the  Neck,  and   ran 

down  Bunker  Hill. 

You  acted  just  like  mad,  John,  and  tumbled  o'er 

and  o'er, 
By  your  stalwart  Yankee  son,  who  handled  half  a 

score, 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  43 

But  now  1  "hope  you're  sober,  John,  you're  far  too 
fat  to  run, 

You've  not  got  the  legs,  John,  you  had  at  Benning- 
ton! 

You  had  some  corns  upon  your  toes,  Cornwallis, 

that  was  one, 
And  at  the  fight  at  Yorktown,  why  then  you  couldn't 

run; 
You  tried  quite  hard,  I  will  admit,  and  threw  away 

your  gun, 
And  gave  your  sword,  fy9  John,  for  shame !  to  one 

George  Washington. 

Another  much-loved  spot,  John,  such  sweet  asso- 
ciations, 

When  you  were  going  down  to  York  to  see  your 
rich  relations ; 

The  Dutchmen  of  the  Mohawk,  John,  anxious  to 
entertain,  • 

Put  up  some  "  Gates"  that  stopped  you,  John,  on 
Saratoga's  plain. 

That  hill  you  must  remember,  John,  'tis  high  and 

.  very  green  ; 
We  mean  to  have  it  lithographed,  and  send  it  to 

your  Queen ; 
I  know  you  love  that  hill,  John,  you  dream  of  it 

a-nights, 
The  name  it  bore  in  76  was  simply  Bemis'  Heights. 


44  NATIONAL    SONGS. 

Your  old  friend  Ethan  Allen,  John,  of  Continental 

fame, 
Who  called  you  to  surrender,  in  Great  Jehovah's 

name ; 
You  recognized  the   "Congress,"  then,  authority 

most  high, 
The  morn  he  called  so  early,  John,  and  took  you 

from  Fort  Ti ! 

I  know  you'll  grieve  to  hear  it,  John,  and  feel  quite 

sore  and  sad, 
To  learn  that  Ethan's  dead,  John,  and  yet  there's 

many  a  lad, 
Growing  in  his  highland  home,  that's  fond  of  guns 

and  noise, 
And  gets  up  just  as  early,  John,  those  brave  Green 

Mountain  Boys. 

Oh  no,  we  never  mention  it ;  we  never  thought  it 

lucky, 
The  day  you  charged  the  cotton-bags  and  got  into 

Kentucky ; 
I  thought  you  knew  geography,  but  misses  in  their 

teens, 
Will  tell  you  that  Kentucky  lay,  just  then,  below 

Orleans. 

The  "beauty"  it  was  there,  John,  behind  the  cotton- 
bags, 

But  did  you  get  the  booty,  John] — somehow  my 
memory  flags 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  45 

I  think  you  made  a  "  swap,"  John,  I've  got  it  in  my 

head, 
Instead  of  gold  and  silver,  you  took  it  in  cold  lead  ! 

The  mistress  of  the  Ocean,  John,  she  couldn't  rule 

the  Lakes; 
You  had  some  Ganders  in  your  fleet,  but  John,  you 

had  no  Drakes ; 
Your  choicest  spirits,  too,  were  there,  you  took  your 

hock  and  sherry, 
But  John,  you  couldn't  stand  our  fare,  you  couldn't 

take  our  Perry! 

N.  Y.  Evening  Post, 

♦ 

[From  the  Boston  Uncle  Sam— June  20th,  1846. 
93  THEY   WAIT   FOR  US. 

ORIGINAL. 

The  Spanish  maid,  with  eye  of  fire, 
At  balmy  evening  turns  her  lyre 
And,  looking  to  the  Eastern  sky, 
Awaits  our  Yankee  chivalry 
Whose  purer  blood  and  valiant  arms, 
Are  fit  to  clasp  her  budding  charms. 

The  man,  her  mate,  is  sunk  in  sloth — 
To  love,  his  senseless  heart  is  loth : 
,    The  pipe  and  glass  and  tinkling  lute ; 
A  sofa,  and  a  dish  of  fruit ; 
A  nap,  some  dozen  times  by  day ; 
Sombre  and  sad,  and  never  gay, 


46  NATIONAL    SONGS. 

He  seems  accursed  for  deeds  of  yore, 
When  Mexico  once  smoked  with  gore: 
The  blood  of  many  a  patriot  band, 
Shed  by  invaders  of  their  land, 
Who  now,  by  quick  avenging  time, 
Are  vanquished  by  the  subtile  clime, 
Which  steals  upon  the  manly  mind 
As  comes  "  miasma"  on  the  wind. 

An  army  of  reformers,  we — 
March  on  to  glorious  victory ; 
And  on  the  highest  peak  of  Ande, 
Unfurl  our  banners  to  the  wind, 
Whose  stars  shall  light  the  land  anew, 
And  shed  rich  blessings  like  the  dew. 


24  WAR  SONG. 

BY  R.  H.  WILDE. 

Oh  heard  ye  the  war-note  summoning  us  all, 

In  the  cause  of  our  country  to  conquer  or  die 
And  did  ye  not  welcome  that  soul-stirring  call, 
With  a  proud-swelling  bosom  and  fire-flashing  eye ! 

Or,  if  the  lofty  strain, 

Thrill'd  not  thro'  ev?ry  vein, 
Waking  each  feeling  our  forefather's  knew ; 

Join  not  the  battle-song ; 

Whose  holy  notes  belong, 
Sons  of  Columbia,  to  freedom  and  you. 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  47 

But  if  through  the  long  gloomy  night  ye  have  wept, 
While  the  sun  of  our  glory  lay  shrouded  in  shame, 
Or  sternly  leaned  on  your  arms  while  you  kept, 
A  sad  silent  watch  'till  the  morning  star  came. 

Now  when  the  crimson  beam, 

Lighting  up  earth  and  stream, 
Gives  back  our  country  all  glowing  with  charms 

Free  let  our  banners  float — 

Loud  be  your  music's  notes, 
Louder  your  cannon's  peal  thundering  to  arms. 

Those  banners  that  now  idly  float  on  the  gale, 
O'er  St.  Augustine's  walls  shall   in  triumph  be 
flung, 
x^nd  the  Meteor  flag  at  Quebec  shall  grow  pale, 
When  Montgomery's  dirge  on  our  cannon  is  rung, 
Then  away  to  the  tented  plain, 
There  shall  your  swords  maintain, 
Rights  that  our  sires  bequeathed  to  us  all, 
From  lips  ye  have  loved  so  well, 
Taking  one  fond  farewell, 
Haste  to  the  battle  and  conquer  or  fall. 

Nay  weep  not  ye  fair ;  'twere  less  pain  to  the  heart, 
To  mourn  for  dead   freemen  than  press   living 
slaves ! 
But  trust  me,  altho'  your  loved  warriors  depart, 
While  many  reap  laurels,  but  few  will  find  graves, 
Bright  as  waves  rosy  dye, 
Warmer  than  friendship's  eye, 


48  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Glory  shall  light  them  wherever  they  roam, 

And  Peace  soon  shall  bless  them, 

And  beauty  caress  them, 
And  love  with  a  witching  smile  welcome  them 
home. 


25      DEATH   ON   THE   BATTLE-FIELD. 

AFTER  THE  ANTIQUE. 

I  would  not  lie  on  bed  of  down, 

Like  puling  girl,  to  die  ; 
I  would  not  in  the  festal  hall, 

Midst  mirth  and  revelry. 

I  would  not  die  an  aged  man, 
With  strength  and  reason  gone ; 

Nor  like  a  self-devoted  monk, 
In  convent  cell  alone. 

I  long  upon  the  battle-field 

In  foremost  rank  to  fall, 
Midst  charge  of  horse  and  clang  of  arms, 

My  banner  for  my  pall ! 

Or  give  me  on  the  bloody  deck 

Triumphantly  to  die, 
When  falling  spars  and  crashing  wreck 

Proclaim  our  victory  ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

26  TO   THE   BATTLE. 

BY  THOMAS  DUNN  ENGLISH. 

To  the  battle,  friends  and  countrymen, 

The  foe  is  on  your  shores ; 
His  gold  is  with  your  traitors, 

And  his  tramp  is  at  your  doors. 
Arouse  and  arm  and  onward  swarm, 

With  trumpet-note  and  song, 
For  the  glorious  days  of  seventy-six, 

And  the  Union  young  and  strong! 

Though  the  foe  his  host  of  battle  boast 

As  fierce  as  winter's  storm ; 
And  over  your  bays  and  on  your  coast 

His  mighty  navies  swarm, 
Awake !  and  show  the  strength  of  heart 

That  nerved  your  fathers,  when 
Your  cities  and  your  villages 

Were  filled  with  armed  men. 

With  the  famous  deeds  of  famous  men, 

Our  fathers  in  the  tomb, 
Re-kindle  all  the  olden  fires 

That  chased  the  olden  gloom. 
Salute  your  foemen  with  a  shout, 

A  trumpet  shout  sublime — 
A  people's  voice,  which  must  be  heard 

By  nations  and  by  Time. 
5 


50  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

In  the  God  who  reigns  in  heaven  above, 

And  ever  guards  the  just; 
To  shield  the  land  we  love  so  well, 

We  humbly  hope  and  trust. 
Relying  firmly  on  his  aid, 

We  strike  our  steady  blows — 
May  the  saints  above  seek  mercy 

For  the  spirits  of  our  foes ! 

When  our  fathers  fought  for  liberty, 

Though  weak  in  numbers  then, 
What  mattered  it  to  them,  so  long 

The  few  they  had  were  men. 
And  shall  we  shame  our  fathers ; 

Shall  we  dim  the  name  we  bear ; 
While  our  country  is  the  monument 

To  tell  us  who  they  were  7 

To  the  battle  then,  my  countrymen, 

The  foe  comes  darkly  on  ; 
There  is  fame  for  those  who  fight  with  us. 

And  shame  for  those  who  run. 
Aloft  in  air  your  falchions  bare, 

Sound  trumpet-note  and  song  ! 
For  the  glorious  days  of  seventy-six, 

And  the  Union  young  and  strong ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  51 

[From  the  Washington  Union.] 
27    ARM  FOR  THE  TEXAN  BATTLE. 
Arm  for  the  Texan  battle, 

Sons  of  the  brave  and  free, 
Away,  and  win  a  soldier's  grave, 

Or  a  glorious  victory ; 
The  cries  of  your  murdered  brothers, 

On  the  Rio  Grande  slain, 
Are  calling,  freemen,  for  your  aid, 
And  shall  they  call  in  vain  ? 

O !  arm  for  the  Texan  battle,  &c. 

In  the  ranks  of  Freedom's  foray, 

The  soldier's  post  should  be, 
Where  Taylor's  gallant  Spartan  band 

Are  battling  valiantly, — 
His  white  plume  proudly  waving 

In  the  midst  of  the  conflict's  strife ; 
His  shot  should  bring  the  usurper  down, 

His  sabre  drink  his  life  ! 

Then,  arm  for  the  Texan  battle,  &c. 

Say,  how  should  the  soldier  perish — 

On  the  pillow's  soft  repose  ? 
O !  no — with  his  bright  shield  'neath  his  head, 

In  the  battle's  glorious  close ; 
The  enemy's  banner  lowered, 

The  skies  with  "  victory"  riven, 
Then  smile  adieu  to  his  comrades  brave, 

And  his  spirit  soar  to  Heaven ! 


NATIONAL    SONGS. 

O  arm  for  the  Texan  battle, 

Sons  of  the  brave  and  free  ! 
Away  !  and  win  a  soldier's  grave, 

Or  a  glorious  victory  ! 

Washington,  May  24,  1846.  Ringgold. 


[From  Neal's  Saturday  Gazette— -June  20th,  1846.] 
28  PALO-ALTO   AND   RESACA. 

A  NEW  SONG  FOR  THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY,  1846. 

The  following,  which  we  find  in  the  Southern  Patriot, 
would  be  recognized  by  its  excellence  as  the  work  of 
no  hand  unaccustomed  to  the  chords,  even  without  the 
initials  which  are  appended  to  it.  It  will  be  sung  on 
the  day  for  which  it  was  written  from  one  end  of  the 
Union  to  the  other : 

Now  while  our  cups  are  flowing 

With  memories  born  to  bloom, 
And  filial  hands  are  throwing 

Their  wreaths  o'er  valor's  tomb ; — 
While  lips  exulting  shout  the  praise 

Of  heroes  of  the  past  that  stood, 
Triumphant  'mid  old  Bunker's  blaze, 

And  proud  in  Eutaw's  field  of  blood ; — 
Do  not  forget  the  gallant  tram, 

That  lifts  your  name  in  Mexic  war — 
One  cup  for  Palo-Alto  drain, 

One  mighty  cheer  for  Resaca  ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  53 

For  Taylor—"  Rough  and  Ready," 

True  son  of  truest  sires ; — 
For  May,  who  swift  and  steady, 

Trod  down  La  Vega's  fires ; 
For  all  who  in  that  day  of  strife, 

Maintain'd  in  pride  the  stripes  and  stars — 
The  dead,  who  won  immortal  life, 

And  they  who  live  for  other  wars — 
For  these,  who  with  their  victory, 

New  wreaths  to  grace  our  laurel  bring — 
A  health  that  drains  a  goblet  dry, 

A  cheer  that  makes  the  welkin  ring  I 

Nor,  though  even  now  we  falter 

With  thoughts  of  those  who  died, 
And  at  our  festive  altar, 

Grow  silent  in  our  pride, 
Yet  in  the  heart's  most  holy  deep, 

Fond  memory  shrine  the  happy  brave, 
Who  in  the  arms  of  battle  sleep 

By  Palo's  wood  and  Bravo's  wave ; 
Nor  in  our  future  deeds  forgot, 

Shall  silent  thought  forbear  to  bring, 
Her  tribute  to  that  sacred  spot, 

Where  Ringgold's  gallant  soul  took  wing. 

Fill  to  our  country's  glory, 

Where'er  her  flag  is  borne ; 
Nor,  in  her  failing  story, 

Let  future  ages  mourn ! 

5* 


54  NATIONAL    SONGS. 

Nor  let  the  envious  foreign  foe, 

Rejoice  that  faction  checks  her  speed, 
Arrests  her  in  the  indignant  blow, 

And  saddens  o'er  the  avenging  deed  ! 
Fill  high,  though  from  the  crystal  wave-,' 

Your  cup,  and  from  the  grape  be  mine ; 
The  marriage  rites,  that  link  the  brave 

To  fame,  will  turn  each  draft  to  wine. 


29  THE   WARRIOR'S   DIRGE. 

BY  MRS.  C.  M.  SAWYER. 

Warrior,  rest !  thy  toils  are  ended  : 

Life's  last  fearful  strife  is  o'er ; 
Clarion-calls,  with  death-notes  blended, 

Shall  disturb  thine  ear  no  more  ! 
Peaceful  is  thy  dreamless  slumber ; 

Peaceful,  but  how  cold  and  stern  ! 
Thou  hast  joined  that  silent  number 

In  the  land  whence  none  return  ! 

Warrior,  rest !  thy  banner  o'er  thee 

Hangs  in  many  a  drooping  fold  ; 
Many  a  manly  cheek  before  thee 

Stain'd  with  tear-drops  we  behold  ! 
Thine  was  not  a  hand  to  falter 

When  thy  sword  should  leave  its  sheath  ; 
Thine  was  not  a  cheek  to  alter, 

Though  thy  duty  led  to  death ! 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  55 

Warrior,  rest !  a  dirge  is  knelling 

Solemnly  from  shore  to  shore 
'Tis  a  nations  tribute  telling 

That  a  patriot  is  no  more ! 
Thou  where  Freedom's  sons  have  striven, 

Firm  and  bold,  didst  foremost  stand ! 
Freely  was  thy  life-blood  given 

For  thy  home  and  father-land ! 

Warrior,  rest !  our  star  is  vanish'd 

That  to  victory  led  the  way ; 
And  from  our  lone  heart  is  banish'd 

All  that  cheer'd  Life's  weary  day ! 
There  thy  young  bride  weeps  in  sorrow 

That  no  more  she  hears  thy  tread ; 
That  the  night  which  knows  no  morrow 

Darkly  veils  thy  laurell'd  head  ! 

Warrior,  rest !  we  smooth  thy  pillow, 

For  thy  last,  long  earthly  sleep 
O  !  beneath  yon  verdant  willow 

Storms  unheard  will  o'er  thee  sweep ! 
There,  'tis  done  !  thy  couch  awaits  thee ! 

Softly  down  thy  head  we  lay ; 
Here  repose,  till  God  translates  thee 

From  the  dust  to  endless  day ! 


56  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

30  THE   GATHERING. 

BY  LIEUT.  O.  W.  PATTEN,  U.  S.  A. 

Hark  !  'tis  the  trumpets  call 

Booms  o'er  the  sea ! 
Crowd  for  your  banners  all, 

Sons  of  the  free. 
Send  the  hoarse  battle  yell 

Back  to  the  main : 
Arm  for  the  citadel ! 

Arm  for  the  plain  ! 

War  from  the  battle-cloud 

Beckons  his  hand ; 
Wove  is  the  crimson  shroud 

— Drawn  be  the  brand  ! 
Up !  from  the  mount  and  glen 

Forest  and  ford — 
Rally !  ye  free-born  men 

Arm !  with  the  sword  ! 

Omens  are  gathering 

Fast  o'er  the  lea  ; 
Red  is  the  Eagle's  wing 

Restless  the  sea ; 
When  hoarse  the  cloud  rolleth 

Pay  heed  to  the  storm 
Arm  !  arm ! — 'tis  the  trumpet's  breath 

Marshal !  and  form  ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

[From  the  New  York  Evening  Mirror.] 
31        THE   DEATH   OF   COL.   CROSS. 

BY  F.  L.  WADDELL. 

O'er  Rio  Grande,  embattled  stream, 
Why  booms  the  minute-gun  ? 

Why  pales  the  crescent  moon  her  beam  ] 
A  warrior's  race  is  run. 

Not  on  the  field,  by  foeman's  blade, 

In  noble  strife  he  fell : 
Vile  murder  lurked  in  ambuscade, 

When  horror  shriek'd  his  knell. 

With  martial  tread  and  flashing  eye, 
His  gallant  comrades  come, — 

Revenge  swells  every  bosom  high, 
Sad  beats  the  muffled  drum. 

Deep  in  the  dusky  forest  lair, 
His  mangled  corpse  they  found, 

Spaniard — the  chapparel  beware  1 
Blood  consecrates  his  mound. 

In  line,  the  marching  squadrons  wheel 

Beside  the  soldier's  grave  ; 
The  dirge  notes  sound,  the  volleys  peal, 

The  flag  droops  o'er  the  brave. 

Martyr  of  fate,  Fame  guards  thy  sod ! 
To  her  who  weeps  alone, 


\ 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

With  breaking  heart  turns  to  her  God, 
Stern  vengeance  will  atone ! 

In  glory  shall  his  name  be  enshrined, 

Who,  dashing  on  the  foe, 
The  vile  assassin  slave  to  find, 

Strikes  the  avenging  blow. 

Freedom,  thy  battle  hour  is  nigh ! 

Swords  gleam  and  war  plumes  toss ; 
The  army  charges — Spaniard  fly ! 

The  word — "  the  gallant  Cross  !" 


[From  the  Sunbury  American.] 
32     COME,  COME   FREEMEN  AROUSE. 

Come,  come  Freemen  arouse,  let  the  faint-hearted 
flee 
The  flag  of  the  brave  waves  high, 
The  President  calls,  let  our  prompt  answer  be 
We  are  ready — we'll  conquer  or  die. 

Come,  come  Freemen  arouse,  &c. 

"  The   stars  and  the  stripes,  in  the  wrong  or  in 
right," 
Our  watchword  and  motto  shall  be, 
Their  honor  we'll  cherish,  in  peace  or  in  fight, — 
We  may  die,  but  we'll  ever  be  free. 

Come,  come  Freemen  arouse,  &c. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  59 

O,  glorious  and  bright  is  the  soldier's  fame, 

And  the  blessing  of  millions  fall 
On  the  heads  of  the  brave  ;  but  curses  and  shame 

On  who  falter  at  Liberty's  call. 

Come,  come  Freemen  arouse,  &c. 


33  GOD    HAS    MADE    US    FREE. 

A  National  Anthem. 

BY  GEORGE  P.  MORRIS,  ESQ. 

Freedom  spreads  her  downy  wings 
Over  all  created  things ; 

Bend  low  to  him  the  knee  : 
Bring  the  heart  before  His  throne — 
Bow  to  Him  and  Him  alone — 
He's  the  only  king  we  own. 

And  he  has  made  us  free  ! 
Chorus — Arm  and  on — ye  brave  and  free .' 
Strike  for  God  and  Liberty  ! 

The  holiest  spot  a  smiling  sun 
Ere  shed  his  genial  rays  upon, 
Is  that  which  gave  a  Washington 

The  drooping  world  to  cheer  ! 
Sound  the  clarion  peals  of  Fame, 
Ye  who  bear  Columbia's  name — 
With  existence  freedom  came — 

It  is  men's  birth-right  here, 
Chorus — Arm  and  on — ye  brave  and  free  I 
Strike  for  God  and  Liberty  ! 


60  NATIONAL    SONGS. 

Heirs  of  an  immortal  sire, 

Let  his  deeds  your  hearts  inspire — 

Weave  the  strain  and  wake  the  lyre, 

Where  your  proud  altar's  stand  : 
Hail  with  shouts  and  loud  hurrahs, 
Streaming  from  a  thousand  spars, 
Freedom's  rainbow  flag  of  stars, 

The  symbol  of  our  land  ! 
Chorus — Arm  and  on — ye  brave  and  free ! 
Strike  for  God  and  Liberty ! 


^  [From  the  Reveille.] 

34  AWAY  TO   THE   BATTLE. 

[Written  upon  the  arrival  of  the  steamer  that  brought 
the  news  of  the  victory  of  the  American  troops  near 
Matamoras.] 

The  stars  of  the  night,  to  the  cannon  responding, 
As  tranquil  as  ever  looked  down  from  the  sky, 

And  say  to  the  brave — "  no  more  be  desponding, 
The  star-spangled  banner  is  floating  on  high !" 

The  curse  of  the  foe,  whose  footsteps,  invading, 
Have  been  tracked  by  the  flow  of  American  blood, 

Shall  return  to  his  breast,  e'er  the  roses  lie  fading, 
Whose  deep  crimson  hues  were  thus  dyed  in  the 
bud. 

With  them,   Ladies    fair,   brilliant    garlands    are 
wreathing 
For  lovers  who  spurn  at  all  other  chains ; 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  61 

And  the  sword  has  been  drawn  from  cast  away 
sheathing, 
That  in  triumph  will  gleam  over  Mexican  plains. 

Away  to  the  battle,  with  rifle  and  banner ! 

'Tis  honor  that  welcomes  and  victory  calls — 
Till  our  army  of  conquest,  still  shouting  "  Hosanna !" 

Shall  fill  and  surround  Montezuma's  famed  halls ! 


[From  the  Cincinnati  American  Citizen.] 
35        THE   UNITED  STATES   FLAG. 

BY  ROBT.  E.  H.  LEVERING. 

Respectfully  dedicated  to  those  Patriots  who  are 
throwing  aside  party  distinctions  to  defend  our  com- 
mon  country  against  Mexican  aggression. 

Flag  of  my  country — I  view  with  emotion 
Thy  stars  and  thy  stripes  so  gloriously  unfurPd, 

And  think  that  they  speak  in  their  tremulous  emo- 
tion 
A  soft  melting  language  address'd  to  the  world  ! 

The  Banner  of  Freedom  ! — how  proud  is  its  bear- 
ing ! 

The  gems  of  the  sky  it  is  brightly  displaying, 
To  tell  to  the  nations  her  sons,  all  so  daring, 

Their  trust  and  their  cause  on  Jehovah  are  laying  ! 

And  look  on  its  stripes  ! — 0  how  sweetly  appearing ! 
Ail  mingling  in  beauty,  'though  differing,  united, 
6 


62  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

To  show  that  Columbia  in  "  union"  endearing, 
Is  rising  to  glory  by  Heav'n  invited  ! 

Ah, — who  can  behold  it, — ah, — who  that  has  feeling, 
Can  gaze  on  the  charms  that  that  banner  is  show- 
ing, 

And  not  feel  his  bosom  a  transport  revealing, 
His  pulse  all  so  wildly  with  Liberty  glowing ! 

Ah, — who  that  has  seen  it  high  waving  in  battle, 
But  felt  that  its  accents — 'though  silently  spoken — 

Had  promis'd  success  'mid  the  cannon's  loud  rattle, 
And  flutter'd  still  sweetly — bright    Liberty's 

TOKEN ! 

Yes, — who  that  has  watch'd  it  on  battle-field  dying, 
As  victors  around  it  with  triumph  have  crowded, 

But  bade  it "  Adieu  !"  though  in  groans  and  in  sigh- 
ing, 
And  wish'd  in  its  folds  to  be  gloriously  shrouded ! 

Still, — still,  has  it  magic  as  tocsins  are  sounding, 
As  War  with  its  accents  comes  stronger  and 
louder ; 

And  waves  as  if  wav'd  by  the  spirit  abounding 
That  met  and  that  conquer'd  of  old  the  intruder  ! 

Still, — still,  shall  each  freeman  with  rapture  behold  it, 
And  find  in  its  language,  so  deeply  alluring, 

As  Fate  o'er  the  red  field  of  strife  broad  unfolds  it, 
A  pure  hallow'd  courage  to  death  still  enduring ! 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  63 

It  speaks  for  the  dead  in  their  glory  reposing  :— 
"  No  hand  shall  its  stripes  and  its  stars  e'er  dis- 
sever !" 

It  speaks  for  the  living,  their  spirit  disclosing:— 
"  We  swear  to  defend  it  for  you  and  forever !" 

Flag  of  my  country  ! — so  famous  in  story, 

I  send  up  a  pray'r  that  thy  beauties  so  cherish'd, 

May  proudly  be  floating  in  triumph  and  glory, 
The  Flag  of  the  World,  when  Thraldom  has 
perish'd  ! 


36  WAR. 

Ho  I  ho ! — fling  out  our  starry  flag  unto  the  sunny 

sky! 
Let  sound  the  bugle  and  the  drum  with  stirring 

notes  and  high ! — 
Grasp  now  the  slumbering  musket,  and  harness  on 

the  sword, 
And  stand  erect  and  ready,  for  our  country's  voice 

is  heard  ! 

She  calls  unto  her  honest  sons  to  claim  redress  for 

wrong ; 
To  wipe  away  the  insults  deep  which  they  have 

borne  too  long : — 
She  asks  them  in  the  name  of  Right,  to  hasten  at 

her  call, 
And  for  the  cause  of  Justice,  to  conquer  or  to  fall ! 


1 


64  NATIONAL    SONGS. 

The  Mexican  hath  pressed  our  soil — his  hand  hath 
shed  the  blood 

Of  brave  and  gallant  bosoms — and  fiend-like  he  hath 
stood, 

Gloating  with  all  a  murderer's  joy,  as  his  poor  vic- 
tims lay 

Unburied  on  the  desert  shore — the  loathsome  vul- 
ture's prey ! 

The  Mexican  ! — where  is  the  heart  so  dead  to  pride 
and  shame, 

As  not  to  feel  a  patriot's  scorn  at  mention  of  that 
name? 

A  name  that  wakes  the  memory  of  wrongs  too  long 
endur'd — 

Of  countless  crimes,  which  call  aloud  for  the  aveng- 
ing sword. 

Then,  ho! — shout  out  the  battle-cry !— draw  forth 
the  glittering  brand ! 

And  from  the  soil  of  freemen  expel  the  invading 
band ! — 

Our  cause  is  just  and  righteous — meet  it  with  daunt- 
less brow — 

And  may  there  be  no  recreant  soul  to  fail  or  falter 
now. 
Washington,  May,  1846. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  65 

37  OUR  COUNTRY. 

BY  J.  W.  PEABODY. 

Our  country !  'tis  a  glorious  land — 

With  broad  arms  stretched  from  shore  to  shore ; 
The  proud  Pacific  chafes  her  strand, 

She  hears  the  dark  Atlantic's  roar  ; 
And  nurtured  in  her  ample  breast, 

How  many  a  goodly  prospect  lies 
In  Nature's  wildest  grandeur  drest. 

Rich  prairies  decked  with  flowers  of  gold, 

Like  sun-lit  ocean  roll  afar ; 
Broad  lakes  her  azure  heavens  behold, 

Reflecting  clear  each  trembling  star ; 
And  mighty  rivers,  mountain  born, 

Go  sweeping  onward,  dark  and  deep, 
Through  forests,  where  the  bounding  fawn 

Beneath  their  sheltering  branches  leap. 

And  cradled  'mid  her  clustering  hills, 

Sweet  lakes  in  dreamlike  beauty  hide, 
Where  love,  the  air  with  music  fills,. 

And  calm  content  and  Peace  abide ; 
For  Plenty  here  her  fullness  pours, 

In  rich  profusion  o'er  the  land, 
And  sent  to  seize  her  generous  stores, 

There  prowls  no  tyrant's  hireling  band. 

Great  God !  we  thank  Thee  for  this  home, 
This  bounteous  birth-land  of  the  Free, 
6* 


66  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Where  wanderers  from  afar  may  come, 
And  breathe  the  air  of  Liberty ; 

Still  may  her  flowers  untrammelled  spring, 
Her  harvests  wave,  her  cities  rise ; 

And  yet,  till  time  shall  fold  his  wing", 
Remain  Earth's  loveliest  Paradise ! 


[From  the  Saturday  Emporium.] 
38       THE   BATTLE   OF  PALO-ALTO. 

BY  H.  H.  RICE. 

Grim  visaged  war  had  raised  his  front, 

In  awful  retribution  dire, 
"  To  arms !  to  arms !"  the  cry  went  forth, 

The  sons  of  Freedom  to  inspire. 

On  to  the  rescue  !  on  ye  brave ! 

In  one  unbroken  phalanx  speed ; 
Stand  by  your  country,  right  or  wrong, 

Her  champions  in  the  hour  of  need  ! 
i 

"  We  met  the  enemy,  and  they're  ours  ln 

Our  mighty  cannon's  deafening  peals 
Proclaim  the  valor  of  our  arms 

On  Palo-Alto's  crimson  fields. 

Our  oft  victorious  gallant  band 
New  laurels  wreathe  for  Liberty, 

Above  the  din  and  clash  of  arms 
Arose  the  shout  of  "  Victory !" 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  67 

The  battle's  o'er— all,  all  is  still 

As  midnight  on  the  vasty  deep, 
No  prayers  are  heard,  no  rites  observed, 

But  hushed  in  death  the  vanquished  sleep. 

No  more  the  proud  usurping  foe 

Shall  crush  the  budding  germ  of  light, 

Columbia's  stripes  and  stars  now  wave 
Triumphant  o'er  Oppression's  night. 

New  York,  June,  1846. 


[From  Park  Benjamin's  Western  Continent.] 
39  THE   RIO   GRANDE. 

There  are  sounds  of  mighty  conflict  by  a  peaceful 

river's  shore, 
And  the  tranquil  air  is  shaken  by  the  deaf 'ning  can- 
non's roar ; 
By  the  deaf'ning  roar  of  cannon,  like   the  rolling 

thunder  peal, 
And  the  rattling  sharp  of  musketry,  the  clash  and 

clang  of  steel, 
And  the  shouts  of  conquering  squadrons,  the  groans 

of  dying  men, 
*And  the  neighing  of  affrighted  steeds,  swift  scouring 

o'er  the  plain ; 
For  the  sons  of  young  Columbia  are  battling  hand 

to  hand, 
With  the  legions  of  proud  Mexico,  beside  the  Rio 

Grande. 


68  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Amid  the  thickest  of  the  fray  a  gallant  chief  flies 

fast ; 
His  swarthy  foes  before  him  bend,  like  reeds  before 

the  blast; 
On  right  and  left,  on  left  and  right,  he  wields   a 

trusty  sword, 
And  blood  upon  the  trampled  turf,  like  ruddy  wine 

is  pour'd. 
His  clarion  voice  rings  loudly,  his  arm  is  stout  and 

strong, 
And  none  are  readier  to  avenge  his  slighted  coun- 
try's wrong ; 
But  ah  !  the  death-shot,  lightning-winged,  has  struck 

amid  his  band, 
And  the  gallant  chief  lies  bleeding,  beside  the  Rio 

Grande. 

Dismay  and  consternation  on  that  little  squadron  fell, 
For  there  were  none  but  loved  him  right  faithfully 

and  well ; 
They  fly  with  swift  alacrity,  to  aid  him,  and  to  cheer, 
And  the  eyes  of  lion-hearted  men  shed  many  a  briny 

tear. 
Rut  while,  with  sad   solicitude,  his  mangled  form 

they  rais'd, 
His  proud  eye  flashed  unearthly  light,  as  o'er  the 

field  he  gaz'd — 
"  Rush  on,  my  men,  ye've  work  to  do,"  he  cried  in 

loud  command, 
And  bade  them  to  the  fight  again,  beside  the  Rio 

Grande. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  69 

They  are  speeding  like  the  hurricane,  they've  left 

him,  they  are  gone 
And  pillowed  on  the  verdant  turf,  the  soldier  lies  alone; 
The  battle's  tide  has  rolled  away  and  none  are  near 

him  now, 
To  soothe  his  agony,  or  wipe  the  cold  drops  from  his 

brow ; 
But  from  his  breast  escapes  no  sigh,  no  murmur  from 

his  lips, 
And  while  his  sight  grows  dim  beneath  the  gath'ring 

death  eclipse — 
As  in  a  dream,  the  soldier's  heart  is  with  his  native 

land, 
And  little  recks  he  of  the  strife  besides  the  Rio  Grande. 

He  is  sitting  now,  her  darling  boy,  beside  his 
mother's  knee, 

The  wild  fawn  'mid  the  free  blue  hills  not  happier 
than  he ; 

Or  roaming  through  the  meadow  grass  to  pluck  the 
early  flowers, 

Whose  perfume  lingers  round  us  e'en  to  life's  re- 
motest hours. 

A  bright- eyed  girl,  more  beautiful  than  morn's  first 
rosy  beam, 

His  fond  enraptured  spirit  stirs  with  love's  enchant- 
ing dream ; 

She  chides  his  warm  caresses  not — he  clasps  her 
gentle  hand — 

Ah !  thrill'd  with  pain,  he  wakes  again,  beside  the 
Rio  Grande. 


70  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

And  now  returning  lustre  for  a  moment  lights  his 

eye — 
0  !  is  it  not  a  glorious  thing  thus  on  the  field  to  die ) 
For  well  he  knows  that  after  years  shall  venerate 

his  name, 
And  crown  his  deathless  mem'ry  with  the   laurel 

wreath  of  fame  ; 
And  youth,  and  sober  manhood,  and  hoary  headed  age, 
Shall  dwell  with  rapture  o'er  his  deeds  up'on  the 

historic  page, 
And  patriot  mothers  tell  their  babes  how  well  his 

valiant  hand 
Did  battle  in  its  country's  cause,  beside  the  Rio 

Grande. 

The  film  is  spreading  o'er  his  eyes — the  ashen  hue 

of  death 
Steals  swiftly  o'er  his  features  now,  and  fainter 

.  grows  his  breath, 
Hark  !  hark !  the  cry  of  victory  the  dying  man  has 

reach'd : 
He  raised  his  head  exultingly  and  wide  his  arms 

outstretch'd ; 
A  smile  played  round  his  pallid  lips,  then  sank  he  on 

the  sod, 
And  freed  from  its  frail  tenement,  the  spirit  sought 

its  God, 
And  now  the  green  grass  o'er  him,  by  the  Southern 

breeze  is  fann'd 
And  the  gallant  hero  slumbering  lies  beside  the  Rio 

Grande. 


NATIONAL    SONGS. 
40  OUR  COUNTRY'S  FLAG. 

BY  MRS.  ALFRED  H.  REIP. 

Seek  it  where  the  battle  cry, 
Is  glorious  death  or  liberty ; 
Here  mankind  have  a  happy  home, 
And  bow  to  none,  save  Heaven's  throne. 

Seek  its  stars  of  fadeless  light, 
Amid  the  din  of  perilous  fight, 
Around  its  staff  you'll  find  array 'd, 
Hearts  beating  high,  and  undismay'd. 

Seek  it  on  the  blood-dyed  wave, 
Where  heroes  meet  a  watery  grave ; 
There  floats  the  banner  of  the  free, 
In  proud,  though  element,  victory. 

Seek  it  on  the  distant  shore, 
Its  parent  folds  are  wafting  o'er 
Columbia's  absent  sons — to  be 
A  guardian  to  the  brave  and  free. 

Protected  by  its  ample  shade, 
From  tyrants'  frowns  and  sheathless  blade, 
Erin's  poor  wander'rs  strike  again, 
Her  sweet  harp  to  a  merry  strain. 

Israel,  too,  here's  a  home  for  thee, 
Beneath  thy  vine  and  own  fig  tree ; 
Oh !  dance— dance  to  the  cymbol's  notes, 
Nor  fear,  while  e'er  this  banner  floats. 


NATIONAL    SONGS. 

Seek  it  where  the  ottomans  are, 
The  Eagle  flaps  her  pinion  there ; 
Beneath  whose  shade  the  Christian's  name 
Securely  rests  in  its  wreath  of  fame. 

Where  learning  has  but  a  dark  trace, 
Its  stars  beam  on  that  desert  place, 
A  halo  bright — and  there  are  built 
Altars  to  curb  a  nation's  guilt. 

Yes — every  where  in  every  breeze, 
Our  flag  triumphant  o'er  the  seas, 
Floats  as  a  beacon  for  the  free, 
To  point  the  way  to  liberty ! 


[From  the  Philadelphia  Times.] 
41  SONG. 

Jlir—"  Yankee  Doodle.*' 

Our  soldiers  on  the  Rio  Grande, 

By  Jupiter  do  fight, 
And  Gen'ral  Vega  had  to  stand. 
No  time  was  there  for  flight 
'Twas  Captain  May's  great  scimitar, 

About  his  neck  he  saw, 
He  felt  a  sort  of  grim  despair, 
His  soul  was  fill'd  with  awe. 

Said  he  I'm  near  "  kirk  alloway," 
For  ghosts  and  witches  stare ; 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

O  Lord,  that  I  had, staid  away ! 
Just  see  that  goblin's  hair. 

No  quicker  had  he  cried  alarm, 
Than  down  upon  him  pounc'd 
The  Yankee  spirit's  mighty  arm, 
That  dragg'd  him  off  at  once. 

He  left  the  field  for  "  kingdom  come," 

He  knew  no  hopeful  means, 
But  'stead  in  death  with  ghosts  to  roam, 
He  strides  our  New  Orleans. 
Arista  and  weak  Parides, 

Why  seek  you  more  defeat, 

See  Vega  fattens  at  his  ease  ! 

And  laughs  at  your  retreat. 


[From  the  Daily  Chronicle.] 
42  STANZAS. 

BY  JAMES  WOODHOUSE. 

New  stars  of  glory  on  our  ensigns  wave, 

By  the  deep  shores  of  sultry  Rio  Grande, 
And  "  Palo- Alto"  marks  our  foeman's  grave, 

And  dark  "  des  Palma"  hails  our  victor  band. 
With  calm  array  and  stern,  our  squadrons  came, 

'Neath  the  hot  flamings  of  a  noontide  sun, 
When  Aztec's  warriors  open'd  wide  a  flame, 

And  the  fierce,  bloody  play  of  death  begun,  [ranks — 
Wide   swept  Columbia's  sword  through  shatter'd 

Swift  broke  the  ranks  where  storm'd  the  iron  hail, 
7 


74  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

And  glittering  bayonets  tore  the  bending  flanks, 

With  might  resistless  as  the  northern  gale. 
But  sounds  of  wailing  broke  upon  our  ears 

Amidst  the  riot  of  a  nation's  glee  ; 
Our  fall  of  heroes  far  surpass'd  our  fears, 

And  Ringgold's  death  bought  dear  our  victory  ! 
And  gallant  Blake,  who  hail'd  the  battle's  swell, 

Who  eager  sought  the  foeman's  fiercest  power, 
Like  Persia's  chieftain,  great  Cambyses,  fell 

By  his  own  weapon,  in  an  adverse  hour. 
Ah !  harder  thus  to  die,  than  by  the  hand 

Of  gallant  foe  in  the  battle  field, 
Where  foremost  honor  points  to  glory's  stand, 

Where  patriot's  bosom  is  their  country's  shield. 
Rise,  ye  bold  warriors  of  the  sunny  South  ! 

Pour  down,  ye  heroes  from  the  northern  plains ; 
On,  ye  rough  hunters  from  the  prairie  heath — 

On  by  the  freeman's  blood  that  fills  your  veins  ! 
Spread  to  the  world  the  tidings  of  a  star 

New-born,  and  added  to  our  glorious  flag  ! 
Make  the  proud  nations  hail  it  from  afar — 

Plant  it  on  high  Carnerio's  topmast  crag.* 
Go  in  the  restless  might  of  freedom's  charms — 

Go  in  the  spirit  of  a  freeman's  will  ? 
Go  in  the  cause  which  nerved  your  fathers'  arms  : 

Go  strike  in  freedom's  cause,  be  freemen  still ! 

*  Mount  Carnerio  rises  immediately  back  of  Vera 
Cruz,  and  being  constantly  covered  with  snow,  it  can 
be  seen  at  a  distance  of  150  miles  seaward. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  75 

[From  the  Public  Ledger.] 
4S  THE   NATION'S    CALL. 

"  To  arms,  ye  brave,"  our  country  calls 

On  freemen  of  the  land, 
In  might  to  raise,  and  throng  the  halls 
Now  fill'd  by  despot  bands. 

Star  of  the  North !  the  Nation's  eye 

Is  firmly  fixed  on  thee, 
As  from  each  hill  her  standards  fly, 

And  wave  victoriously. 

Chivalrous  South  !  we  need  thine  aid — 
The  foe  is  on  our  soil !  , 

Thy  valor  tried  must  not  be  stay'd 
While  yet  lives  war's  turmoil. 

The  steadfast  East  needs  no  command 

The  Nation's  rights  to  save  ; 
For  ever  firm  her  sons  will  stand, 

Or  fill  the  heroes'  grave  ! 

From  out  the  West  let  him  come  forth 
Whose  "  sport's  the  toilsome  fray  ;" 

Whose  honest  heart  and  sterling  worth 
To  triumph  lead  the  way  ! 

United  thus,  in  one  phalanx, 

What  foe  dare  meet  our  band  1 

We'll  onward  march,  and  cross  the  banks 
That  line  the  Rio  Grande ! 
Philadelphia,  June  1,  1846. 


76  NATIONAL     SONGS. 


44  MY   FATHER  LAND. 

BY  J.  R.  LOWELL. 

Where  is  the  true  man's  father  land  ? 
Is  it  where  he  by  chance  is  born  1 
Doth  not  the  yearning  spirit  scorn 

In  such  scant  borders  to  be  spanned  ? 

O  !  yes,  his  father  land  must  be 

As  the  blue  heaven,  wide  and  free  ! 

Is  it  alone  where  freedom  is — 
Where  God  is  God  and  man  is  man  1 
Doth  he  not  claim  a  broader  span 

For  the  soul's  love  of  home  than  this  ? 

O  !  yes,  his  father  land  must  be 

As  the  blue  heaven,  wide  and  free ! 

Where'er  human  heart  doth  wear 

Joy's  myrtle-wreath,  or  sorrow's  gyves, 
Where'er  a  human  spirit  strives 

After  a  life  more  true  and  fair, 

There  is  the  true  man's  birth-place,  grand — 

His  is  a  world-wide  father  land  ! 

Where'er  a  single  slave  doth  pine, 
Where'er  one  man  may  help  another — 
Thank  God  for  such  a  birthright,  brother ; 

That  spot  of  earth  is  thine  and  mine  ! 

There  is  the  true  man's  birth-place,  grand — 

His  is  a  world-wide  father  land  ! 


NATIONAL    SONGS. 

[From  the  Westchester  JefTersonian.] 
45  A  SONG  FOR  THE   ARMY. 

BY  A.  M.  WRIGHT. 

Tune—"  Old  Dan  Tucker." 

We're  on  our  way  to  Monterey, 
We're  on  our  way  to  Monterey, 
We're  on  our  way  to  Monterey, 
And  other  towns  along  the  sea. 

For  now  we've  crossed  the  Rio  Grande 
With  General  Taylor  in  command, 
Our  banners  floating,  on  we'll  go, 
To  conquer  all  of  Mexico. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

We'll  push  our  conquests  on  the  land, 
Bombard  their  ports  upon  the  strand, 
And  with  our  force  we  cannot  fail 
To  whip  the  enemy  in  detail. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

And  should  old  England  interfere, 
To  stop  us  in  our  bright  career, 
We'll  teach  her,  as  we  did  of  yore, 
This  land  is  ours  from  shore  to  shore. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

We  come  from  valley,  hill  and  glen, 
Fit  nurseries  of  valiant  men, 
7* 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Where  Freedom  still  her  vigil  keeps, 
'Mid  forests  wild  and  rocky  steeps. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

She  kindles  in  our  hearts  a  flame, 
Impelling-  us  to  win  a  name, 
For  deeds  that  shall  outshine  in  story 
The  brightest  on  the  page  of  glory. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

So  don't  molest  us,  Johnny  Bull, 
Or  you  may  get  your  belly  full ; 
Hard  words  with  you  we  would  not  bandy, 
For  hard  fighting  has  become  quite  handy. 
We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

Let  recreant  statesmen  fly  the  course, 
And  General  Scott,  the  old  war-horse, 
Blow  hot  or  cold  his  "  plate  of  soup," 
To  England  we  will  never  stoop. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

We'll  boldly  fight,  and  freely  bleed, 
With  General  Taylor  at  our  lead  ; 
For  foremost  in  the  danger,  he 
Will  strike  with  us  for  victory. 

We're  on  our  way,  &c. 

His  lion  heart  is  strange  to  fear, 
lie  shrinks  not  when  the  peril 's  near ; 
But  heaviest,  fastest,  deals  his  blows 
Amidst  the  thickest  of  his  foes. 

We're  on  our  way  &c. 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  79 


46  SONG  FOR  THE   MILLIONS. 

Our  God  is  good,  his  works  are  fair, 
His  gifts  to  man  are  rich  and  rare ; 
His  holy  presence  everywhere, 

O'er  land  and  sea, 
Proclaims  that  all  should  equal  share 

Sweet  liberty. 

The  air  with  sounds  of  Freedom  rings, 
Whene'er  the  lark  his  carol  sings, 
Whene'er  the  bee  bestirs  his  wings ; 

From  tiny  bird 
And  joyful  twittering  insect  things 

That  sound  is  heard. 

'Tis  first  of  Nature's  wise  decrees, 
It  floats  upon  the  healthful  breeze, 
It  speaketh  in  the  rustling  trees, 

Without  control ; 
It  rolls  o'er  waves  of  mighty  seas, 

From  Pole  to  Pole. 

Wherever  mortal  man  hath  been, 
In  deserts  wild,  or  prairies  green, 
In  storm,  or  solitude  serene, 

O'er  hills,  or  plains, 
*     He  hath  in  Nature's  Kingdom  seen 

That  freedom  reigns. 


80  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Dear  Liberty !  foul  Slavery's  ban, 
Destroy  thee  tyrants  never  can, 
For  when  the  flight  of  time  began, 

God  made  all  free ; 
He  breathed  into  the  soul  of  man, 

Pure  love  for  thee. 

That  love !  inspired  great  Bruce  and  Tell ; 
Before  them  despots  fled  and  fell ; 
That  love  hath  often  rung  the  knell 

Of  coward  knaves, 
Whose  powerful  villanies  compel 

Men  to  be  slaves. 

And  yet  that  love  shall  millions  bless, 
Its  power  with  all  their  wrongs  redress, 
Base  tyranny  shall  soon  confess, 

The  rights  of  all; 
Then  wo  to  him  that  dare  oppress 

With  chains  and  thrall. 

For  God  is  good,  his  works  are  fair, 
His  gifts  to  man  are  rich  and  rare  ; 
His  holy  presence  everywhere, 

O'er  land  and  sea, 
Proclaims  that  all  should  equal  share 

Sweet  liberty. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  81 

[From  the  Saturday  Emporium.] 
47  YANKEE    GIRL& 

BY  J.  WAKEFIELD. 

I'm  angry  when  a  freeman  sings 

Of  foreign  maids,  whose  shallow  arts 
Are  spent  in  winning  lords  and  kings 
Instead  of  hearts ! 

Let  England  laud  her  beauties  rare, 

With  love-lit  eyes  and  "  sunny  curls  yJ 
To  me  they  seem  not  half  so  fair 
As  Yankee  girls ! 

Tho'  England's  beauties  I  allow, 

Are  fair,  and  wear  a  noble  mien, 
I'm  not  their  slave — I  would  not  bow 
jE'en  to  their  queen  ! 

But  there's  a  fair  and  lovely  band, 

Decked  with  no  pearl  or  costly  gem — 
The  daughters  of  my  native  land — 
/  bow  to  them  ! 

When  our  brave  fathers  sought  to  gain 
Freedom — the  price  of  many  lives — 
Their  efforts  would  have  been  in  vain 
Without  their  wives. 


82  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

'Twas  theirs  to  bind  the  bleeding  wounds, 
And  with  fresh  courage  nerve  the  free ; 
The  daughters  of  such  mothers  are 
The  girls  for  me  ! 

Watertown,  N.  Y.,  May,  1846. 


[From  the  Philadelphia  Times.] 
48  ON  THE   DEATH   OF   MAJ.  RINGGOLD. 

BY  MRS.  J.  A.  BEVERIDGE. 

He  died,  as  brave  men  still  should  die, 
A  soldier's  calmness  in  his  eye ; 
He  breathed  the  Patriot's  latest  vow, 
With  Victory's  laurel  on  his  brow. 

A  grateful  country  mourns  his  fall, 
Who,  foremost  stood  at  Honor's  call, 
Upheld  her  cause,  in  battle's  strife, 
And  for  her  glory,  perilled  life. 

His  word  was  onward :  on  the  day 
When  warriors  met  in  stern  array, 
And  brave  men  followed,  where  he  led, 
Secure  in  valor's  path  to  tread. 

Wo  to  the  direst  of  his  foes, 
Who  dared  the  hero's  arm  oppose, 
Where  mid  the  thickest  of  the  fight, 
His  sabre  flash'd  its  deadly  light.' 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

But  Death  still  "  loves  a  shining  mark," 
And  mid  the  din  of  conflict,  hark  ! 
The  cannon  deals  the  mighty  blow 
That  lays  the  dauntless  soldier  low  ! 

He  fell ! — but  the  fair  hand  of  Fame, 
On  her  high  altar  graved  his  name, 
And  Liberty's  bright  genius,  wept, 
Above  the  bier,  where  Ringgold  slept ! 


[From  the  Daily  Chronicle.] 
49  MAJOR   RINGGOLD. 

BY  JAMES  W00DH0USE. 

'Twas  midday  !  and  the  sun  was  bright 

Along  the  shores  of  Rio  Grande, 
And  sparkled  in  its  fiery  light 

The  bayonets  of  our  patriot  band. 
The  breezes  from  the  far  off  mountains 

Came  whispering  o'er  the  fields  of  balm, 
And  rested  on  the  chiming  fountains, 

Which  mirror'd  out  a  heaven  of  calm. 
The  armadillo  in  his  shell, 

Was  sleeping  in  the  mangrove's  shade, 
And  the  sloth's  lazy  cryings  fell 

Along  the  silent  mountain's  glade. 
Amidst  the  boughs  the  song  was  low 
Of  the  bright  quam  and  curasoe  ; 
No  noise  disturbed  the  ambient  air, 
No  voice  of  discord  hover'd  there.  * 


84  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Along  the  staffs  was  drooping  low, 
Columbia's  flag  and  Mexico's ; 
The  forests  dark,  the  tangled  plain, 
Kept  record  of  a  people's  fame — 
And  the  far  mountains,  calm  and  blue, 

Told  of  a  gone,  but  brighter  day, 
When  Montezuma's  legions  flew, 

Their  chieftain's  mandates  to  obey — 
Ere  Cortez,  with  his  hellish  band, 
Spread  death  and  slavery  o'er  the  land. 

The  midday  pass'd  !  and  o'er  the  flood 
The  thunder  sound  of  cannon  came  ; 
And  o'er  the  waken'd  field  of  blood, 
Loud,  deep,  and  quick,  the  battery's  flame 
Threw  its  thick  iron  hail ; 
And  Ringgold,  foremost  of  his  men, 
Cried  "  ho,  boys  !  make  the  fire  again, 

Your  country  tells  the  tale." 
Swift  rush'd  the  iron  from  their  walls, 
The  laboring  cannon  bellow'd  loud, 
And,  brighter  than  the  fire  which  falls. 
At  midnight  from  the  mountain  cloud, 
When  the  deep  welkin's  ear  is  riven, 
Flash  after  flash  did  gleam — 
And  on  their  spirit  wing  was  driven 
Death's  messenger  unseen. 

O'er  Matamoras  stood  the  foe — 
The  rapine  hordes  of  Mexico  ; 
7* 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  85 

The  fires  were  kindled  on  their  walls- 
What  cry  of  wo  salutes  the  ear  3 
What  faltering  voice  attempts  to  cheer 
The  slackening  fire,  the  storm's  career  1 

'Tis  Ringgold's,  as  he  falls : 
"  Strike  in  your  country's  sacred  cause, 
Strike  by  your  altars  and  your  laws, 
Strike  by  your  father's  mould'ring  grave, 
Which  pillows  by  Potomac's  wave, 

The  arbiter  of  liberty ! 
Who  led  your  dreaded  sires  in  war, 
Who  made  your  country  hail'd  afar, 

The  sacred  refuge  of  the  free  !" 

He  fell !  and  thunders  shook  the  strand, 
Red  flash'd  the  flames  o'er  Rio  Grande 
And  when  the  shout  peal'd  o'er  the  lea, 
Hailing  our  country's  victory, 
A  fire  a  moment  seized  his  eye, 
A  gaze  which  did  e'en  death  defy ! 
His  nostril  proud  disdain'd  his  breath- 
He  smiled,  and  triumph'd  over  death  ! 

He  had  no  bitter  thoughts  of  death — 
He  drew  no  sad,  desponding  breath  ; 
He  ask'd  no  bigot's  selfish  prayer — 

He  ask'd  no  vengeance  on  his  foes 
His  country's  safety  was  his  care, 

Its  triumph  ere  his  life  would  close. 
For  him  his  conquering  country  weeps, 

For  him  whose  race  was  nobly  run, 
8 


86  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Who  fell  in  victory's  arms,  and  sleeps 
On  the  proud  laurels  he  has  won. 

No  storm  shall  tear  thy  wreath  of  fame, 
No  envy  shall  traduce  thy  name ; 
The  maiden's  foot  shall  seek  thy  grave, 
By  Saratoga's  sparkling  wave, 
When  ardent  summer  calls  the  guest 
To  the  cool  shades  of  tranquil  rest. 
And  'midst  the  gay,  on  noontide  heath, 
Thy  name  shall  grace  the  festive  wreath ; 
Its  sound  the  infant's  boast  shall  be — 
Its  father's  voice  shall  call  on  thee ; 
And  when  the  avenging  bolts  of  death 
Are  wing'd  upon  the  cannon's  breath ; 
When"  reeking  broadswords  thickly  fall, 

Like  tempests  on  the  foe, 
Thy  name,  amidst  the  battle's  pall, 

Shall  urge  a  deadlier  blow. 
For,  when  the  fallen  hero's  name 

Is  utter'd  by  a  freeman's  breath, 
And  sounds  along  the  ranks  of  flame, 

It  nerves  the  arm  for  deeds  of  death. 
It  echoes  like  the  hailing  cry 

Which  sounded  to  the  seaman's  ear, 
When  light  upon  the  western  sky 

Announc'd  a  new  found  world  was  near ; 
Or  as  the  shout  which  shook  the  dome 
When  Sparta's  band  decried  their  home. 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Thy  name,  bright  hero  of  thine  age, 
Is  lasting  as  thy  country's  page  ! 
Thy  leaf  the  proudest  of  that  tree 
Which  calls  our  sons  to  victory ; 
And,  while  upon  Columbia's  plains, 
One  gallant  son  like  thee  remains, 
What  madd'ning  tyrant  dares  invade 

Our  country  with  his  angry  steel, 
Save  to  receive  the  keen  edged  blade, 

Which  freemen  make  a  tyrant  feel  ? 
Thy  name  is  grateful  as  the  cry 

Which  tells  us  of  our  first  born's  breath ; 
Thou'rt  of  the  chosen  few  who  die, 

To  be  immortal  by  their  death ! 

Philadelphia,  June  14th,  1846. 


[From  the  Philadelphia  Times.] 
50  BY   A  LADY. 

Come  rally  true  Americans, 

And  show  your  skill  in  war, 
Your  bravery  and  your  talents 

For  fighting  none's  at  par. 
Your  own  adopted  brethren 

From  Erin's  fertile  isle, 
With  trusty  hearts  will  by  you  stand 

And  never  you  beguile. 
The  iron  band  of  friendship 

Will  bind  our  Union  strong ; 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Let  no  one  rend  asunder 

Amidst  the  busy  throng  ; 
But  each  put  on  his  helmet, 

And  guard  against  the  foe. 
On  land  or  sea,  firm  at  his  post 

His  dauntless  courage  show, 
If  heavy  battles  they  survive, 

And  peace  returns  once  more, 
The  glory  of  our  land  be  theirs, 

Who  wins  it  in  the  war. 
Then  rally  ye  true  patriots, 

From  every  foreign  land, 
Whose  hearts  beat  for  America, 

And  join  our  gallant  band. 


51   FOR  TEXAS  AND  FOR  OREGON. 

Time— ~"  Dandy  Jim." 

Columbia's  mighty  flag  of  Mars, 
Has  gained  two  bright  and  glowing  stars, 
But  foemen  jealous  of  their  light, 
To  pluck  their  glories  now  unite. 
Be  ready  then  to  strike  the  blow, 
Gainst  Johnny  Bull  or  Mexico, 
Arm  for  the  field  both  sire  and  son, 
For  Texas  and  for  Oregon. 

Each  spot  bold  lads,  is  all  our  own, 
'Twas  cultured  by  our  sons  alone, 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  89 

By  freemen's  hands  that  soil  was  till'd, 
And  freemen's  hands  shall  hold  it  still. 
Be  ready  then  to  strike  the  blow,  &r 

Our  sons  upon  each  spot  so  free, 
First  planted  freedom's  holy  tree, 
They  nourished  it  with  blood  and  toil, 
And  have  the  first  right  to  the  soil. 

Be  ready  then  to  strike  the  blow,  &c. 

Let  freedom's  pioneers  still  find, 
That  Uncle  Sam  walks  close  behind, 
And  each  spot  where  their  flag's  unfurFd, 
He  will  defend  against  the  world. 

Be  ready  then  to  strike,  &c. 

Let  Mexico  and  Bull  unite, 
To  rob  us  of  our  holy  right, 
We'll  fire  annexation's  gun, 
And  sweep  off  ev'ry  hostile  son. 

Be  ready  then  to  strike,  &c. 

Each  mountain  stream  shall  like  a  flood, 
Run  purple  with  the  foeman's  blood, 
Who  from  our  holy  flag  would  tear, 
The  two  young  stars  we've  woven  there. 
Be  ready  then  to  strike,  &c. 
8* 


90  NATIONAL     SONGS. 


52  TEXAS,   THE  YOUNG  TREE  OF  FREE- 
DOM. 

Tune— l%  Harry  Bluff." 

Wake,  sons  of  Columbia,  by  sea  and  by  land, 
With  your  arras  crush  the  foe  and  his  proud  daring 

band, 
Fair  Texas  the  sapling  of  Liberty's  tree, 
Is  grafted  for  e'er  in  the  hearts  of  the  free ; 
Ere  Mexican's  tyrants  shall  strike  at  its  root, 
Or  with  foreign  aid  strive  to  plunder  its  fruit, 
To  her  fair  injured  land  with  your  arms  nobly  fly, 
And  swear  by  our  union  to  conquer  or  die, 
For  Texas,  the  young  tree  of  freedom. 

Beneath  the  broad  shelter  of  Liberty's  pine, 
Her  fair  spreading  branches  now  tenderly  twine, 
And  our  proud  eagle  flapping  his  wings  o'er  each 

bough, 
Screams  "  death  to  the  hand  that  shall  dare  harm 

her  now ;" 
On  our  heaven  born  flag  her  bright  star  we  have 

wove, 
It  gleams  with  the  light  Freedom  sent  from  above, 
Then  on  to  the  field  by  its  dear  holy  light, 
And  sweep  the  proud  foe  from  the  soil  of  our  right, 
For  Texas,  the  young  tree  of  Freedom. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  91 


53  TO  THE  FIELD,  FREEMEN. 

Tune — "Draw  the  Sword,  Scotland." 

To  the  field,  freemen,  freemen,  freemen, 

The  foe  now  threatens  fair  Liberty's  star, 
Arm  for  the  battle,  the  battle,  the  battle, 

And  drive  Mexican  proud  invaders  afar ; 
Our  young  child  of  freedom  is  calling,  is  calling, 
For  aid  against  a  phrenzied  and  merciless  foe, 
Then  onward  for  Texas,  with  valor  appalling, 
Let  vengeance  and  freedom  be  dealt  in  each  blow. 
To  field  freemen,  freemen,  freemen, 

The  bold  foe  now  threatens  fair  Liberty's  star, 
Arm  for  the  battle,  the  battle,  the  battle, 
And  drive  Mexico's  proud  invaders  afar. 

Come  wave  high  the  banner,  the  bright  starry  ban- 
ner, 
Your  hearts  will  take  fire  at  the  Red  White  and 
B^ue, 
Quick,  launch  forth  your  thunder,  your  tjiunder, 
your  thunder, 
With  Liberty's  tars  ever  valiant  and  true, 
Then  shall  the  foeman,  recoiling,  recoiling, 

Retreat  to  his  cavern,  or  sink  to  his  grave, 
And  his  boasting  be  silenced  forever,  forever, 
As  freedom's  bright  stars  over  Texas  shall  wave. 

To  the  field  freemen,  freemen,  freemen,  &c. 


92  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

54        THE   FAIR  LAND   OF  TEXAS. 

Tune—"  When  the  Fair  Land  of  Poland." 

'Ere  the  fair  land  of  Texas,  a  star  of  our  flag, 

Shall  be  dim'd  by  the  Mexican  foe, 
Arouse  sons  of  freedom,  on  mountain  and  crag 

And  crush  the  usurpers  all  low ; 
Shall  a  band  of  assassins  by  false  nations  joined, 

Crush  the  soil  we  now  hail  as  our  own, 
No,  we'll  brave  ev'ry  nation  against  us  combin'd 

Till  freedom  o'er  earth  reigns  alone. 
Yes,  by  our  virgin-freedom's  land, 
We  will  protect  her  heart  and  hand. 

True  child  of  Columbia  in  young  freedom's  dawn, 

She  lit  Independence's  fire, 
By  its  pure  light  of  heaven  she  boldly  rushed  on, 

Till  she  made  her  invaders  retire ; 
To  our  bold  starry  flag  now  she  leads  her  young 
star, 
To  shine  on  our  liberty's  sky, 
And  beneath  its  bright  glory  we'll  rush  to  the  war 
For  Texas,  and  -conquer  or  die. 
Yes,  by  our  virgin-freedom's  land, 
We  will  protect  her,  heart  and  hand. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  93 


55ALL  FOR  TEXAS!  OR  VOLUNTEERS  FOR 
GLORY. 

Tune—"  Follow  the  Drum." 

Come,  rouse,  boys,  rouse,  with  spirits  gay 
'    Your  valiant  hearts,  and  boldly  come, 
In  Texas  cause,  to  march  away, 

And  volunteer  all  to  follow  the  drum. 
Liberty's  sons  in  a  foreign  land, 

Claims  our  rifles'  potent  aid, 
Then  join  together,  hand  in  hand, 
And  off  to  Texas — who's  afraid  1 
Then  rouse,  boys,  rouse,  with  spirits  gay 
Your  valiant  hearts,  and  boldly  come, 
In  Texas'  cause  to  march  away, 

And  volunteer  all  to  follow  the  drum. 

The  farmer  swore  he'd  leave  his  plough, 

His  team,  and  tillage  and  all,  by  gum, 
"  With  a  country  life,  I've  done,  I  swow, 

So  I'm  off  to  Texas  to  follow  the  drum, 
How  I'd  bang  the  foes,  good  lord, 

I'd  not  wait  for  quarter  or  parley, 
I'd  use  my  flail  instead  of  a  sword, 

But  thrash  the  foe  instead  of  the  barley. 

The  doctor  rose  from  off  his  seat, 

And  shook  his  pestle  all  so  glum, 
11  I've  not  been  afraid  grim  death  to  meet, 

So  I'll  take  my  lancet  and  follow  the  drum* 


94  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

I'll  physic  the  Mexicans  day  and  night, 
And  give  'em  a  dose  of  powder  and  pill, 

I'll  phlebotomize  'em  if  I  can't  fight, 
And  draw  some  blood  if  I  can't  kill." 

The  dry-goods  merchant  quit  his  store, 

And  left  off  twiddling  his  finger  and  thumb, 
"  My  yard  measure  I'll  flourish  no  more, 

But  wield  a  sword,  and  follow  the  drum." 
The  barber  his  razor  did  nobly  wave, 

And  to  lather  the  foe  took  off  his  coat 
"  If  I  had  Santa  Anna  to  shave, 

By  de  hokey  powers  I'd  cut  his  throat." 

The  Southern  hunter  drain'd  his  cup, 

And  slung  his  rifle  over  his  back 
"I  guess  my  dander's  riz  right  up, 

In  Texas'  cause  I  go  for  a  crack." 
Onward  march  through  prairie  wide, 

With  rifle  slung,  and  knife  in  pocket, 
Victory  sits  on  freedom's  side, 

Three  cheers  for  Houston  and  Davy  Crockett ! 


56  COME   RAISE   ALOFT   THE   RED   WHITE 
AND   BLUE. 

Tune — "  Yankee  Ship  and  Yankee  Crew." 

Come  raise  aloft  the  red  white  and  blue, 

And  march  to  meet  the  foe, 
Show  Mexico's  loud  boasting  crew, 

There's  death  in  freemen's  blow ; 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  95 

We'll  sweep  the  Gulf,  and  cross  Del  Norte, 

The  Mongiel  Spaniard  to  tame, 
We'll  shake  old  Santa  Fee's  proud  forte, 

And  light  up  their  towns  with  our  flame. 
Come  raise  aloft  the  red  white  and  blue,  &c. 

Now  on  to  Texas,  boldly  go, 

And  swear  by  mighty  mars, 
That  down  the  Mexican's  sun  shall  go, 

Beneath  our  stripes  and  stars ; 
The  star  of  Texas  brightly  glows, 

Within  each  patriot's  eye, 
And  by  its  light  he  nobly  goes, 

To  guard  her  soil  or  die. 

Then  raise  aloft  the  red  white  and  blue. 


57  YANKEES   LIGHT   THE   FIRES   BRIGHT. 

Tune — "  Gray  Goose." 

Yankees  light  the  fires  bright, 

Your  fathers  lit  of  yore,  boys, 
And  swear  no  Mexican  shall  light, 

On  Texas'  injured  shore ; 
Come  gather  east,  come  gather  west, 

Come  around  with  Yankee  thunder 
Break  down  the  power  of  Mexico, 

And  tread  her  tyrants  under. 

Our  little  state  of  gallant  scars, 
True  friends  shall  never  need  'em, 


96  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

While  we  have  27  stars, 
To  light  her  on  to  freedom. 

Come  gather  east,  &c. 

Remember  where  brave  Fanning  fell, 

With  thirty  gory  gashes, 
And  swear  to  ring  the  tyrant's  knell, 

Ere  thev  insult  his  ashes. 

Come  gather  east,  &c. 

Remember  gallant  Crockett's  bones, 
Have  found  a  glorious  bed  there, 

Then  tell  them  in  your  thunder  tones, 
No  tyrant's  feet  shall  tread  there. 

Come  gather  east,  &c. 

Remember  freedom's  sacred  bird, 
Flaps  o'er  our  heroes  tombs  there, 

And  never  let  the  Texian  herde, 
Profane  his  holy  plumes  there. 

Come  gather  east,  &c. 

Then  send  your  cannon  on  the  main, 

Your  guns  by  hill  and  river, 
And  swear  you'll  Texas  rights  maintain, 

And  keep  her  free  forever.       /   • 

Come  gather  east,  come  gather  west, 
Come  around  with  Yankee  thunder, 

Break  down  the  power  of  Mexico, 
And  tread  her  tyrants  under. 


NATIONAL  SONGS.  97 

58    FOR  TEXAS  AND  HER  STAR. 

Tune — "  A  Wet  Sheet  and  Flowing  Sea." 

Come  muster  quickly  on  the  seas, 

Each  gallant  Yankee  tar, 
Come  spread  your  banner  to  the  breeze, 

For  Texas  and  her  star ; 
For  Texas  and  her  star,  my  lads, 

Through  gulf  and  ocean  go, 
And  with  your  cannon's  thunder  voice, 

Drown  the  boast  of  Mexico. 

Come  muster  quickly  on  the  sea, 
Each  gallant  Yankee  tar,  &c. 

To  freedom's  breeze  now  spread  your  sail, 

Upon  the  Southern  sea, 
And  give  them  with  your  iron  hail, 

A  touch  of  Tripoli, 
Old  Ironsides  is  still  afloat, 

And  gallant  Stewart,  toe, 
To  show  each  Mexican  cut-throat, 

What  Yankee  tars  can  do. 
Then  muster  quickly  on  the  sea,  &c. 

Remember  boys,  vile  Santa  Fee, 

Where  captive  freemen  died, 
When  Mexican  foul  tyranny, 

All  mercy  then  denied ; 
Then  shout  "revenge,"  and  mount  the  wave, 

And  fly  before  the  wind, 
9 


98  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

And  sink  into  a  briny  grave, 
These  tigers  of  mankind. 

Come  muster  quickly  on  the  sea, 
Each  gallant  Yankee  tar,  &c. 


59  WAVE,  WAVE,  THE  BANNER  HIGH. 

Tune— "March  to  the  Battle  Field," 

Wave,  wave  the  banner  high, 

And  onward  to  the  field,  boys, 
By  its  true  blue  of  the  sky, 

We  ne'er  will  Texas  yield,  boys ; 
Each  plain  and  wood, 
Stained  by  the  blood, 
Of  freedom's  pilgrim  sons,  boys, 
There  Houston  led, 
And  Crockett  bled, 
And  brav'd  the  tyrant's  guns,  boys. 
Then  wave,  wave,  &c. 

All  Europe's  haughty  powers, 
Have  owned  her  a  nation, 
And  we  have  made  her  ours, 
By  the  annexation. 
A  land  so  fair, 
Shall  foemen  dare, 
To  crush  or  to  enslave,  boys, 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  99 

No,  by  our  veins, 
We'll  free  her  plains, 
And  dig  each  tyrant's  grave,  boys. 
Then  wave,  wave,  &c. 


60  SONG  OF  THE  SETTLERS  OF  OREGON. 

Tune — "Sinjf  Darkies  Sing." 

Out,  out,  pilgrims  out, 
Rend  the  air  with  freedom's  shout, 
Out,  out,  pilgrims  out, 
For  our  soil  of  Oregon. 

'Ere  Britons  own  the  ground  we  till 
Our  dearest  blood  we'll  freely  spill, 
Till  Oregon  shines  pure  and  free, 
A  star  in  freedom's  galaxy. 

Out,  out,  pilgrims  out,  &c. 

Our  prairie  flowers, 

First  sown  by  freedom's  hand, 
Our  noble  rivers, 

By  freemen's  eyes  first  scanned, 
Our  lofty  mountains, 

By  freemen  first  explored, 
Shall  be  defended, 

By  freedom's  gleaming  sword. 

Out,  out,  pilgrims  out,  &c. 

The  sea  alone  shall  be  the  line, 
To  make  Columbia's  right  divine, 


100  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

And  California  and  Canada, 

Shall  yield  to  freedom's  happy  sway. 

Out,  out,  pilgrims  out, 
Rend  the  air  with  freedom's  shout, 
Out,  out,  freemen  out, 
For  our  homes  in  Oregon. 


61  UNCLE  SAM'S  SOJVG  TO  MISS  TEXAS, 

AT  THE  WHITE   HOUSE. 

Tune— "  Yankee  Doodle" 

Walk  in  my  tall  haired  Indian  gal, 
Your  hand,  my  star-eyed  Texas, 
You're  welcome  to  our  White  House  hall, 

Tho?  Mexy's  hounds  would  vex  us ; 
Come  on  an'  take  some  Johnny  cake, 

With  lasses  snug  an'  coodle, 
For  that  an'  Independence  make, 
A  full  blood  Yankee  Doodle. 
Chorus — Yankee  Doodle  is  the  word, 
Surpassin'  all  creation, 
With  the  pipe  or  with  the  sword, 
It  makes  us  love  our  nation. 

My  overseer,  young  Jimmy  Polk, 
Shall  show  you  all  my  nieces, 

An'  then  the  cabinet  we  '11  smoke, 
Until  our  eagle  sneezes  ; 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  101 

If  Johnny  Bull's  fat  greedy  boys, 

About  our  union  grumble, 
I'll  kick  up  sich  a  tarnal  noise, 

'Twill  make  'em  feel  quite  humble. 

Yankee  Doodle,  &c. 

If  Mexy,  back'd  by  secret  foes, 

Still  talks  of  taken  you,  gal, 
Why  we  can  lick  'em  all,  you  know, 

An'  then  annex  'em  too,  gal ; 
For  Freedom's  great  millenium, 

Is  working  airth's  salvation, 
Her  sassy  kingdom  soon  will  come, 

Annexin'  all  creation. 

Singing  Yankee  Doodle,  &c. 


69  SONG   OF    TEXAS. 

Tune — "Lucy  Neal." 

I  fear  no  haughty  nation, 

Though  foes  all  round  are  piled, 

For  now  I  take  my  station, 
As  Uncle  Sammy's  child. 

Chorus — For  Texas  now  is  free, 

Young  Texas  now  is  free, 
And  when  I*  shine  among  the  stars, 
How  happy  I  shall  be. 
9* 


102  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Though  Mexico  in  pride  now, 

Begins  to  threaten  blows, 
I'll  grin  at  Sammy's  side,  now, 

With  my  thumb  upon  my  nose. 

For  Texas  now  is  free,  &c. 

In  '36  I  was  of  age, 

Took  Liberty's  degrees, 
And  to  unite  I  have  a  right, 

With  any  state  I  please. 

For  Texas  now  is  free,  &c. 

In  Liberty's  pure  laws,  now, 

Uncle  Sam  and  I  are  one, 
And  I  will  aid  his  cause,  now, 

For  sister  Oregon. 

For  Texas  now  is  free,  &c. 

With  Freedom's  fire  prolific, 
We'll  clear  our  rightful  bound, 

From  Atlantic  to  Pacific, 
Is  Uncle  Sam's  own  ground. 

For  Texas  now  is  free,  &c. 

The  whole  shall  yet  be  free, 
The  whole  shall  yet  be  free, 

And  Uncle  Sam  shall  have  it  all, 
In  peace  and  Liberty. 

For  Texas  now  is  free,  &c. 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  103 

63  THE   FLAG  OF   TEXAS. 

Tune— "Flow  on  thou  shiny  River.* ■ 

Flow  on,  flow  on,  thou  bright  young  banner, 

Adopted  by  the  free, 
When  at  the  cannon's  mouth  they  swore 

For  death  or  liberty 
Thou  child  of  peril,  the  stripes  that  dare 

Thy  yet  unwritten  story, 
May  gather  stars,  and  wave  o'er  fields, 

Where  freemen  fight  for  glory. 

The  breeze  of  heaven  shall  bear  thee, 

Upun  its  sunny  wing, 
Until  the  triumph  of  thy  star, 

The  dove  of  peace  shall  bring. 
Thy  birth-place  was  the  field  of  blood, 

And  war's  terrific  thunder 
Did  cradle  thee,  till  thou  hast  broke 

The  oppressor's  bonds  asunder. 

Among  the  flags  of  nations, 

There  is  a  place  for  thee, 
Flaunt  up,  thou  bright  young  banner, 

Flaunt  proudly  o'er  the  free  ; 
The  stripes,  and  stars,  shall  lead  thee  on 

That  o'er  Columbia  wave, 
Float  on  in  sweet  companionship, 

Proud  banner  of  the  brave. 


104  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

64  TEXIAN   CAMP   SONG 

Tune— "  Old  Ballad." 

Our  rifles  are  ready  and  ready  are  we, 

Neither  fear,  care,  or  sorrow  in  this  company, 

Our  rifles  are  ready  to  welcome  the  foe, 

So  onward,  brave  soldiers,  to  battle  we  go, 

For  Texas,  the  land  where  the  bright  rising  star, 

Leads  to  beauty  in  peace,  and  glory  in  war.  [Repeat. 

With  aim  never  erring,  we  strike  down  the  deer ; 
We  chill  the  false  heart  of  the  red  man  with  fear, 
The  blood  of  the  Saxon  flows  full  in  the  veins 
Of  the  lads  who  will  lord  over  Mexico's  plains ; 
O'er  the  plains  where  the  breeze  from  the  South 

woos  the  flowers, 
As  we  press  those  we  love  in  their  sweet  summer 

bowers. 

One  pledge  to  our  loves — when  the  battle  is  done 
They  shall  share  the  broad  lands  our  rifles  have  won, 
No  tear  on  their  cheek ;  should  we  sleep  with  the 

dead, 
There  are  rovers  to  follow,  who  will  still  go-ahead, 
Who  will  still  go-ahead  with  the  bright  rising  star, 
That  leads  to  beauty  in  peace,  or  glory  in  war. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  105 

65  FREEDOM   AND   TEXAS. 

Tune — "  Banks  of  AberfeldyJ" 

Gallant  patriots  arm  and  out, 
Raise  banner  and  the  battle-shout, 
The  proud  oppressor's  force  to  rout, 

For  freedom  and  for  Texas, 
Let  not  her  freedom  star  so  grand, 
That  caught  its  fires  from  our  land, 
Be  pluck'd  by  the  vile  tyrant's  band, 

But  arm  and  strike  for  Texas. 

Gallant  patriots,  &c. 

When  first  our  fathers  beat  the  drum, 
And  struck  for  freedom  and  her  home, 
Then  sons  of  France  and  Poland  come, 

To  their  aid  'gainst  foreign  taxes. 
Then  thus  brave  patriots  arm  and  out, 
Raise  banner  and  the  battle-shout, 
The  proud  oppressor's  force  to  rout, 

For  freedom  and  for  Texas. 

Come  e'er  the  despot  Santa  Anna, 
Man 's  on  her  soil  fair  freedom's  plain, 
Up  and  drive  his  murd'rous  clan, 

Far  from  the  shores  of  Texas. 
Gallant  patriots  arm  and  out, 
Raise  banner  and  the  battle-shout, 
The  proud  oppressor's  force  to  rout, 

For  freedom  and  for  Texas. 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

66  LIBERTY   AND   TEXAS. 

Tune— "The  Statty  Fair." 

Come  Yankee  lads  that  know  no  fear, 

Injur' d  freedom  becks  us, 
Calling*  us  to  volunteer 

For  Liberty  and  Texas. 
Seize  the  rifle,  sword  and  knife, 

And  with  heart  and  hand  boys, 
Rush  into  the  noble  strife, 

For  freedom's  infant  land  boys. 

Come  Yankee  lads  that  know  no  fear,  &c. 

Strike  in  gallant  Houston's  van, 

'Ere  oppression  ties  him, 
We'll  show  old  sa-t-an  Santa  Ann, 

That  we  can  exorcise  (exercise)  him. 
We'll  lay  his  hot  imps  cold  and  low, 

Upon  field  feather  bed,  sirs, 
And  prove  that  gold  of  Mexico, 

Can't  weigh  with  Yankee  lead  sir, 

Come  Yankee  lads,  &c. 

Ere  a  proud  and  treacherous  foe, 

Crush  our  sister  freeland, 
We'll  unto  the  rescue  go, 

Or  give  our  mite  with  free  hand. 
Then  raise  the  gleaming  Texas  star, 

'Gainst  Mexico's  old  Nick  boys, 
Our  rifle's  fire  shalt  light  him  home, 

As  they  did  in  '36  boys. 

Come  Yankee  lads,  &c. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  107 

67         THE   SANTA  FE   PRISONERS. 

Tune — "  Columbia  Land  of  Liberty." 

Americans  protect  your  blood, 

From  slavery's  soul-galling  chain, 
Shall  brothers  of  fair  freedom's  sod, 

Linger  still  in  captive's  pain  1 
Shall  foreign  dungeons  still  confine, 

The  hearts  that  bled  for  freedom  here  1 
No,  cross  the  mongrel  Spaniard's  line, 

And  by  the  blood  of  freedom  swear 
To  rescue  from  captivity, 
The  prisoners  of  Santa  Fe. 

Oh,  shall  it  e'er  be  said  that  we 

Who  hear  their  groans  across  the  waves, 
Still  suffered  them  to  bow  the  knee, 

To  toil  like  brutes,  and  pine  like  slaves  ? 
Up,  up,  and  strike  the  vengeful  blow, 

And  for  their  liberation  call, 
Or  raze  their  lofty  towers  low, 

And  crush  the  tyrants  in  their  fall, 
And  tear  from  vile  captivity, 
The  prisoners  of  Santa  Fe. 


108  NATIONAL     SONGS. 


68  REMEMBER  THE   ALAMO. 

BY  T.  A.  DURRIAGE. 

Tune — "  Bruces  Address.1'' 

When  on  the  wide  spread  battle-plain, 
The  horseman's  hand  can  scarce  restrain, 
His  pampered  steed  that  spurns  the  rein, 
Remember  the  Alamo. 

When  sounds  the  thrilling  bugle  blast, 
And  "charge"  from  rank  to  rank  is  past, 
Then,  as  your  sabre-strokes  fall  fast, 

Remember  the  Alamo. 

Heed  not  the  Spanish  battle-yell, 
Let  every  stroke  ye  give  them  tell, 
And  let  them  fall  as  Crockett  fell, 

Remember  the  Alamo. 

For  every  wound  and  every  thrust, 
On  pris'ners  dealt  by  hands  accurst, 
A  Mexican  shall  bite  the  dust, 

Remember  the  Alamo. 

The  cannon's  peal  shall  ring  their  knell, 
Each  volley  sound,  a  passing  bell, 
Each  cheer  Columbia's  vengeance  tell, 
Remember  the  Alamo. 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  109 

For  it,  disdaining  flight,  they  stand, 
And  try  the  issue  hand  to  hand, 
Wo  to  each  Mexican  brigand  ! 

Remember  the  Alamo. 

Then  boot  and  saddle  !  draw  the  sword ; 
Unfurl  your  banner  bright  and  broad, 
And  as  ye  smite  the  murderous  horde, 

Remember  the  Alamo. 


69  THE   UNION'S   CALL. 

Tune— "All  the  Blue  Bonnets." 

Arm,  arm,  sons  of  the  Union, 

'Gainst  Mexican  tyranny,  arm  for  the  battle, 
Arm,  arm,  in  gallant  communion, 

The  drums  of  the  foemen  insultingly  rattle  ; 
Their  sun  banner  waving,* 
Our  Texas  star  craving ; 
False  nations  send   soldiers   and   captains   to   lead 
them, 

Raise  the  loud  battle-cry, 
Onward  to  Texas  fly, 
To  give  her  bold  sons  Independence  and  Freedom. 
Arm,  arm,  sons  of  the  union, 
'Gainst  Mexican  tyranny,  &c. 

*  A  Sun  is  the  banner  of  Mexico. 
10 


110  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Awake  in  your  halls  where  you  freedom  first  courted, 

And  rush  to  the  rescue  by  sea  and  by  land, 
Awake  on  your  rocks  where  the  eagle  first  sported, 
And  drive  ev'ry  foe  from  a  hold  on  your  strand, 
Up  with  your  sword  and  gun, 
Down  with  the  Spanish  sun, 
Your  bright  stars  will  light  you  wherever  you  need 
them, 

From  Sabine  to  Santa  Fe, 
Shout  death  or  liberty, 
Till  all  Mexico  wears  the  bright  stars  of  freedom. 
Arm,  arm,  sons  of  the  union, 
Gainst  Mexican  tyranny,  &c. 


70  THE   TEXAS   WAR-CRY. 

Tune — "  The  Star  Spang-led  Banner.'* 

Up  Texkns,  rouse  hill  and  vale  with  your  cry, 

No  longer  delay  for  the  bold  foe  advances, 
The  banners  of  Mexico  tauntingly  fly, 

And  the  vallies  are  lit  with  the  gleam  of  their 
lances ; 

With  justice  our  shield, 
Rush  forth  to  the  field, 
And  ne'er  quit  your  posts  till  our  foes  fly  or  yield, 

For  the  bright  star  of  Texas  shall  ne'er  grow  dim, 
While  her  soil  boasts  a  son  to  raise  rifle  or  limb. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  Ill 

Rush  forth  to  the  line,  then  these  hirelings  to  meet, 
Our  lives  and  our  homes  we  will  yield  unto  no 
man, 
Death !  death,  on  our  free  soil  we'll  willingly  meet, 
Ere  our  free  temples  soiled  by  the  feet  of  the  foe- 
man, 
Grasp  rifle  and  blade, 
With  hearts  undismayed, 
And  swear  by  the  temple  brave  Houston  has  made, 
That  the  bright  star  of  Texas  shall  ne'er  be  dim 
While  her  soil  boasts  a  son  to  raise  rifle  or  limb. 


7 1  ARM  ON  !  ARM  ON !  YE  BRAVE  AND 
FREE. 

Anew  National  Anthem,  written  by  George  P.  Mor- 
ris, Esq. — Sung  by  F.  A.  Nash,  Esq.,  at  the  great  War 
gathering,  in  New  York,  on  the  20th  of  May,  1846. 
The  chorus  was  joined  in  by  twenty  thousand  freemen. 

Freedom  spreads  her  downy  wings, 
Over  all  created  things; 
Glory  to  the  King  of  Kings ! 

Bend  low  to  Him  the  knee ; 
Bring  the  heart  before  His  throne — 
Bow  to  Him  and  Him  alone ; 
He's  the  only  King  we  own, 

And  He  has  made  us  free ; 

Chorus — Arm  and  on,  ye  brave  and  free ! 
Arm  and  strike  for  liberty  ! 


112  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

The  holiest  spot  a  smiling  sun 
E'er  shed  its  genial  rays  upon, 
Is  that  which  gave  a  Washington, 

The  drooping  world  to  cheer ! 
Sound  the  clarion  peals  of  Fame, 
Ye  who  bear  Columbia's  name — 
With  existence  freedom  came — 

It  is  man's  birth-right  here. 

Arm  and  on,  ye  brave  and  free  ! 
Arm  and  strike  for  Liberty  ! 

Heirs  of  an  immortal  sire, 

Let  his  deeds  your  hearts  inspire — 

Weave  the  strain  and  wake  the  lyre, 

Where  your  proud  altars  stand  ; 
Hail  with  shouts  and  loud  hurrahs, 
Streaming  from  a  thousand  spars, 
Freedom's  rainbow  flag  of  stars, 

The  symbol  of  our  land ! 

Arm  and  on,  ye  brave  and  free  ! 
Arm  and  strike  for  liberty  ! 


72  THE    BATTLE    CALL. 

Tune — "Boatman's  Dance." 

Oh,  war  now  blows  her  ringing  blast, 
And  fighting  times  have  come  at  last, 
Freedom  buckle  on  the  sword, 
To  crush  the  Mexican  vile  horde. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  113 

Then  march  true  freemen,  march, 
Come  march  true  freemen,  march, 
March  day  and  night,  and  boldly  fight, 
For  freedom  and  for  Texas. 

Heigh  ho  united  go, 

To  crush  the  Dons  of  Mexico.  [Repeat. 

Let  every  state  her  might  prepare, 
The  honors  of  the  fight  to  share, 
For  every  state  can  boast  a  son, 
Whose  valor  little  Texas  won. 

Then  march,  &c. 

Her  little  star  makes  twenty-eight, 

Our  sky-blue  flag  to  decorate, 

By  Oregon  its  rays  shall  shine, 

To  make  the  glorious  twenty-nine. 
Then  march,  &c. 

Heigho  ahead  we1ll  go, 

In  spite  of  Bull  and  Mexico. 


73  JACKSON'S  LAST  WORDS  FOR  OREGON. 

11  No  compromise  but  at  the  cannon's  mouth." 

Tune— "Lucy  NeaL" 

Oh,  hear  my  dying  prayer,  boys, 

From  north  unto  the  south, 
Ne'er  compromise  on  Oregon, 

But  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 
10* 


14  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Chorus — But  at  the  cannon's  mouth, 
But  at  the  cannon's  mouth, 
No  compromise  for  Oregon, 
But  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 

Around  our  starry  banner, 
Each  freeman  take  his  oath, 

To  never  compromise  our  right 
But  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 

But  at  the  cannon's  mouth,  &e. 

Until  the  blood  of  freedom, 

Shall  feel  life's  ending  drought, 

Ne'er  compromise  an  acre, 
But  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 

But  at  the  cannon's  mouth,  &c. 

Though  Britons  crowd  the  ocean, 

Around  our  distant  south, 
Demand  the  whole  of  Oregon, 

E'en  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 

E'en  at  the  cannon's  mouth,  &c. 

By  treaties  and  by  breaches, 

They'll  stop  our  nation's  growth 
Unless  we  stand  up  for  our  rights, 

E'en  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 

E'en  at  the  cannon's  mouth,  &c. 
Then  hear  my  last  injunction, 

And  swear  from  north  to  south, 
To  claim  the  whole  of  Oregon, 

E'en  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 

E'en  at  the  cannon's  mouth,  &c. 


NATIONAL    SONGS. 

74  ANDREW  JACKSON; 

OR,  THE  BOLD  AND  TOUGH  OLD  HICKORY 

Tune — "Fine  Old  English  Gentleman." 

I'll  sing  to  you  a  tough  new  song,  made  by  a  tough 

old  pate, 
Of  a  tough  old   chief  of  Liberty,  from  Carolina's 

state, 
He  there  sprang  from  the  root  of  freedom's  hickory 

tree  so  great, 
And  prov'd  so  tough  in  freedom's  cause  he's  called 

unto  this  date, 
The  bold  and  tough  old  hickory, 
The  hero  of  Orleans. 

While  quite  a  sapling  he  branched  forth  our  free- 
dom to  defend, 

Though  once  a  tyrant  tied  his   boughs,  his   trunk 
they  ne'er  could  bend, 

He  scorned  to  brush  oppression's  boots  when  once  a 
captive  low,* 

But  lived  with  his  tough  hick'ry  limbs  to  sweep  the 
daring  foe. 
This  bold  and  tough  old  hickory, 
The  hero  of  Orleans. 

*  In  the  Revolution,  Andrew  though  quite  a  boy, 
was  taken  prisoner  by  a  party  of  British  soldiers — the 
commanding  officer  among  other  duties  during  his  cap- 
tivity, ordered  him  to  black  his  boots,  which  survile  of- 
fice the  patriotic  youth  absolutely  refused  to  perform, 


116  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

When  red  men  rushed  upon  our  homes  fierce  as  the 

mountain  flood, 
And  gleaming  knife  and  tomahawk  were  red  with 

white  men's  blood, 
He  crushed  the  sanguinary  horde  on  Tallapoosa's 

shore, 
And  old  chiefs  think  they  still  hear  in  the  torrent's 

angry  roar, 
The  bold  and  tough  old  hickory, 
The  hero  of  Orleans. 

And  when  Britannia's  veterans  bold  at  New  Orleans 

drew  sword, 
And  the  prize — "  Booty  and   Beauty"  was  their 

boasting  battle  word, 
His  motto   was    the    nobler    prize,   "  Honor    and 

Liberty" 
And  the  flower  of  British  oaks  dropp'd  down  before 

fair  freedom's  tree. 
The  bold  and  tough  ©Id  hickory,  &c. 

Next  in  the  nation's  capitol  he  stood  the  nation's 

shield, 
His  valor  and  his  wisdom  there  shone  bright  as  in 

the  field, 
Within  the  South  he  nullified  the  voice  of  civil  war, 
And  forced  due  honor  to  our  flag  from  nations  near 
and  far, 
This  noble  tough  old  hickory, 
The  hero  of  Orleans. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  117 

At  last  the  soldier  and  the  sage  within  his  cot  we 

see,  4 

Like  Cincinnatus  praying  for  the  land  he  help'd  to 

free, 
There  as  some  star  more  glorious  shines  before  its 

light  retires, 
The  noble  trunk  burned  bright  away  in  freedom's 

holy  fires. 
Of  this  bold  and  tough  old  hickory,  &c. 


75  TEXIAN   GENERAL'S   ADDRESS   TO   HIS 
ARMY 

Tune — "Scots  wV  hae'  we  Wallace  bled." 

Texians  brave,  in  freedom  bred, 
Texians  now  by  freedom  led 
Welcome  to  your  gory  bed, 
Or  to  victory ! 

Now 's  the  day  and  now 's  the  hour ; 
See  the  front  of  battle  low'r; 
See  approach  Sant'  Anna's  power — 
Chains  and  slavery  ! 

Who  will  be  a  traitor  knave? 
Who  can  fill  a  coward's  grave  ] 
Who  so  base  as  be  a  slave  ? 

Coward  !  turn  and  flee  ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Who  for  Texas'  land  and  law 
Freedom's  sword  will  strongly  draw ; 
Freeman  stand  or  freeman  fa', 

Let  him  follow  me  ! 

By  oppression's  woes  and  pains  ! 
By  your  son's  in  servile  chains ! 
We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins, 

But  they  shall  be  free ! 

Lay  the  proud  usurpers  low  ! 
Tyrants  fall  in  every  foe  ! 
Liberty 's  in  every  blow  ! 

Let  us  do  or  die  ! 


76        THE  FRONTIER  MAN'S  CALL. 

Tune—"  Malbrook." 

Come  border  men  awake  now, 
By  mountain  and  by  lake  now, 
And  make  the  mountains  shake  now, 

With  your  rifle's  loud  alarms. 

The  red  men  come  in  swarms, 

Each  frontier  man  to  arms, 
For  the  savage  is  over  the  border, 
The  savage  is  over  the  border, 
Prepared  for  fight  and  murder, 

Then  frontier  men  to  arms. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  119 

From  field  and  cottage  come  now, 
At  the  sound  of  horn  and  drum  now, 
Defend  your  native  home  now, 

From  danger  and  alarms ; 

Loud  whoops  and  yells  resound, 

Then  leap  forth  at  the  sound, 
For  the  savage  is  over  the  border, 
The  savage  is  over  the  border, 
They  come  for  plunder  and  murder, 

Then  frontier  men  to  arms. 

We  swear  to  know  no  rest,  boys, 
In  our  green  home  of  the  west  boys, 
'Till  our  wives  with  peace  are  blest  boys, 

And  safety  shields  our  farms. 

Our  cause  each  true  heart  warms, 

Then  frontier  men  to  arms, 
For  the  savage  is  over  the  border, 
Our  wives  to  scalp  and  murder, 
Then  shout  the  battle-word  clear, 

And  boldly  rush  to  arms. 


77  BATTLE   OF   THE   THAMES 

Tune — "Decatur's  Victory." 

Awake  !  awake,  Americans  awake  ! 

And  sing  with  loud  acclaim  your  gallant  chief- 
tains' names ; 
Awake,  awake,  by  hall,  by  hill  and  lake, 

Your  song  to  those  who  conquer'd  at  the  Thames ! 


120  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Where   Britons   swarming   forces  back'd   by  their 

%  dusky  allies, 
March'd  forth  to  enthrall  all  our  western  hills  and 
vallies. 

Then  Harrison  so  bold, 
Our  bright  starry  flag  unroll'd, 
And  with  Johnson's  glorious  power, 
And  his  rifle's  thunder  shower, 
They  made  the  British  Proctor  soon   his  haughty 
banner  lower. 

Then  awake,  awake,  Americans  awake, 

And  shout  with  loud  acclaim  your  gallant  chief- 
tains' names, 
Awake,  awake,  forth  your  acclamations  break, 

To  brave  Harrison  and  Johnson  of  the  Thames. 
Record,  record  the  gallant  deeds  record, 

Of  Shelby  and  the  noble  bands  that  struggled  on 
that  day, 
Reward,  reward,  with  honors  bright  reward, 

The  glorious  chiefs  who  bravely  led  the  way; 
Proud  Proctor  advanced,  of  his  British  legion  boast- 
ing, 
Next  came  the  bold  Tecumseh,  but  his  red  binds 
got  a  roasting  ; 

For  old  Harrison's  bright  plan, 
Scatter'd  soon  the  British  van, 
While  brave  Johnson's  manly  blow, 
Laid  the  fierce  Tecumseh  low, 
And  victory  was   echo'd   by   the   roaring  Thames 
below. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  181 

Then  awake,  awake,  Americans  awake, 

And  shout  with  loud  acclaim  your  gallant  chief- 
tains' names, 

Break,  break  forth  in  acclamations  break, 
To  Harrison  and  Johnson  of  the  Thames. 


78     HURRAH!    FOR  THE   TEXAS   STAR, 

Tune — "Rosin  the  Bow." 

Come  citizens  and  Yankee  soldiers, 

And  volunteers  near  and  afar, 
And  musket,  or  rifle  all  shoulder, 

To  fight  for  the  bright  Texas  star — 

And  fight  for  the  Texian  star,  • 

And  fight  for  the  Texian  star, 
The  musket,  or  rifle  all  shoulder, 

And  fight  for  the  Texian  star. 

Ye  bold  rifle  men  of  Kentucky, 
Come  aid  us  in  freedom's  just  war, 

And  our  struggle  will  surely  be  lucky, 
If  you  strike  for  the  Texian  star — 
And  strike  for  the  Texian  star. 

And  strike,  &c. 

Ye  bold  volunteers  of  the  city, 

Who  fain  would  wear  honor's  bright  scar, 
On  brave  brother  freemen  take  pity, 
And  fight  for  the  Texian  star, 
And  fight  for  the  Texian  star. 

And  fight,  &c. 
11 


I  22  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Come  forth  with  your  time-tempered  weapons, 

That  drove  your  invaders  afar, 
Come  on  'ere  the  tyrant  is  steeping 

In  blood  the  bright  Texian  star, 

In  blood  the  bright  Texian  star. 

In  blood,  &c. 

Come  forth  ye  bold  Yankee  militia, 
Whose  arms  once  oppression  did  mar, 

Come  aid  us  with  steel  or  with  specie. 
In  defending  the  Texian  star, 
In  defending  the  Texian  star. 

In  defending,  &c. 

Our  cause  is  the  cause  of  fair  freedom, 
For  the  dear  rights  of  man  we're  at  war, 

Give  us  soldiers  and  heroes  to  lead  them, 
And  save  the  bright  Texian  star, 
And  save  the  bright  Texian  star. 

And  save,  &c. 


79  EPIGRAM. 

Arista  was  a  tailor's  goose, 

To  pun  'pon  Taylor's  name, 

For  Taylor's  measures  all,  it  seems, 

Are  eZ-oquent  of  fame. 

He  sews  them  up,  he  fells  them  down 

He  cuts  them  into  bits. 

And  though  his  charges  are  severe 

He  gives  them  perfect  Jits 


NATIONAL    SONGS. 

[From  the  Daily  Chronicle.] 
80A  VOICE  COMES  O'ER  THE  STORMY  SEA. 

A  voice  comes  o'er  the  stormy  sea 

From  Britain's  rock-bound  coast — 
A  challenge  to  the  brave  and  free, 

A  loud  and  braggart  boast ; 
America  has  heard  the  voice 

From  the  Sabine  to  the  Maine, 
And  her  hardy  sons  rejoice 

To  meet  their  foe  again. 

The  name  of  gallant  Stewart 

Will  nerve  our  valiant  tars 
And  stout  shall  be  such  Yankee  heart 

Beneath  our  country's  stars ; 
The  honored  name  our  fathers  won 

Their  sons  will  never  stain 
As  long  as  the  bright  beaming  sun 

Shall  rise  upon  the  main. 

The  many  glorious  victories. 

Our  noble  Stewart  won ; 
Master  of  oceans  and  of  seas, 

The  world  his  fame  will  own ; 
Our  tars  will  flock  around  his  flag 

With  hearts  for  glory  warm, 
And  fight  beneath  it  while  a  rag 

Shall  flutter  in  the  storm. 


124  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Back !  let  this  vapored  boasting 

On  Britain's  shores  be  thrown  ! 
Let  it  throughout  her  empire  ring, 

And  shake  the  tot'ring  throne  ! 
Her  lion  grappled  with  us  once, 

And  dare  he  come  again, 
Our  Eagle  on  his  fleets  will  pounce. 

And  strew  them  o'er  the  main ! 


81  THE   YANKEE   VOLUNTEER. 

The  days  of  seventy-six,  my  boys, 

We  ever  must  revere, 
Our  fathers  took  their  muskets  then, 

To  fight  for  freedom  dear. 
Upon  the  plains  of  Lexington, 

They  made  the  foe  look  queer, 
Oh,  'tis  great  delight  to  march  and  fight, 

As  a  Yankee  volunteer. 
(Spoken,)  Ready  !  aim  !  fire  ! 

Then  next  on  famous  Bunker's  hill, 

Our  standard  they  did  rear  ; 
'Twas  there  our  gallant  Warren  fell, 

I  tell  it  with  a  tear ; 
But  for  their  victory  that  day, 

The  foe  did  pay  full  dear. 

Oh,  'tis  great  delight,  &c 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  125 

Through  snow  and  ice  at  Trenton,  boys, 

They  crossed  the  Delaware  ; 
Led  by  immortal  Washington, 

No  danger  did  they  fear. 
They  gave  the  foe  a  drubbing,  boys, 

Then  back  to  town  did  steer. 

At  Saratoga  next,  my  boys, 

Burgoyne  they  beat  severe  ; 
And  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown, 

They  gained  their  cause  so  dear. 
Cornwallis  there  gave  up  his  sword, 

Whilst  freedom's  sons  did  cheer. 

Throughout  our  latest  struggle,  boys, 

We  still  victorious  were, 
And  Jackson's  deeds,  at  New  Orleans, 

In  bright  array  appear, 
His  virtues  and  his  bravery, 

Each  foeman  must  revere. 

And  should  a  foe  e'er  again, 

Upon  our  coast  appear, 
There's  hearts  around  me,  brave  and  true, 

Who'd  quickly  volunteer, 
To  drive  invaders  from  the  soil, 

Columbia's  sons  hold  dear ; 
Oh,  they'd  each  delight  to  march  and  fight. 

Like  Yankee  volunteers. 
IP 


126  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

82  THE  FEMALE  VOLUNTEER  FOR  TEXAS. 

Tune — "  The  Dashing  White  Sergeant." 

Oh  !  had  I  a  beau, 
Who  for  Texas  would  go, 
'  Do  you  think  Fd  say  no, 

No,  no,  not  I ; 
When  his  rifle  I  saw, 
Not  a  sigh  would  I  draw, 
But  give  him  eclat, 
For  his  bravery. 
If  a  band  of  young  patriots  should  come  in  my  way 
A  volunteer  for  Texas  Fd  march  away. 

March,  march,  &c. 

When  the  field  I  am  on, ' 

Do  you  think  I  would  mourn, 

Or  wish  to  return, 
No,  no,  not  I — 

With  freedom  Fd  burn, 

All  fear  would  I  scorn, 

Till  Texas  was  crown'd  with  liberty! 
If  a  band  of  young  patriots  should  come  in  my  way 
A  volunteer  for  Texas  Fd  march  away. 

March  away,  march  away,  &c« 

Then  arouse,  man  and  maid, 
Fair  Texas  to  aid, 
Grasp  rifle  and  blade, 
And  never  fly, 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  127 

Till  freedom  again, 
Shall  smile  on  her  plain, 
•    Vour  life's  blood  drain, 
For  victory. 
It  a  band  of  young  patriots  should  come  in  my  way 
A  volunteer  for  Texas  I'd  march  away. 

Marclraway,  march  away,  &c. 


[From  the  N.  O.  Deka.] 
§J$  CAPTAIN    WALKER. 

Thou  ace  of  trumps  in  glory's  pack  I 
Lead  out — the  metal's  in  the  mind ; 

A  million  hearts  are  giving  back 

Impulses,  which  have  throbbed  in  thine ; 

They  come  from  East,  and  North  and  West- 
Ail  souls  of  valor,  breasts  of  flame  ; 

But  such  as  thou  will  need,  at  best, 
But  half  a  hand  to  win  the  game. 

Thou  freest  of  the  patriot  free  ! 

Thou  bravest  of  the  nobly  brave  ! 
Thou  star  of  freedom's  chivalry! 

We  envy  thee — if  but  a  grave. 
Thy  name  is  linked  with  those  which  shine 

In  glory's  sky — the  oaks  of  old, 
The  men  who  faced  the  stormy  line 

Of  Britain's  valor — snurn'd  her  gold. 


128  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

Now  come  the  swords — they  leap  breast-high— 

Now  come  the  bayonets,  glancing  bright — 
Now  flags,  amidst  the  rallying  cvf, 

Unfurl  their  stars  in  morning's  light ; 
Now  hands  that  strongly  grasp  the  brand, 

Westward  and  Southward,  point  the  way — 
Now  voices  shout  for  Freedom's  land, 

And  firmly  moves  the  proud  array. 

This  is  the  tribute  Freedom  sends 

To  thee,  who  art  her  bravest  son ; 
Thy  fearless  spirit,  valor  lends 

To  weaker  hearts,  that  else  had  none ; 
Speed  on — afar  thy  fame  resounds; 

Thy  praises  come  to  every  ear, 
From  lips  that  murmur  sweeter  sounds, 

Than  men  less  brave  deserve  to  hear. 


[From  the  Sunday  Dispatch.] 
84  OUR    COUNTRY. 

"  Right  or  Wrong,  Our  Country." 
Our  country  ever  !  right  or  wrong — 
The  Land  that  gave  us  birth, 
In  every  son  finds  champion, 
'Gainst  proudest  of  the  earth. 
Right  be  she  ever,  but  though  wrong, 
Still  bare  your  breast,  each  son, 
An  offering  make  of  patriot  blood 
Upon  her  Altar — Home. 


NATIONAL    SONGS. 

[From  the  Cincinnati  Weekly  Herald  ] 
85  THE    BATTLE-FIELD. 

"  Give  up  1"     Who  speaks  the  craven  word  ? 

Whose  coward  heart  shrinks  back  ? 
Who  dares  not  brave  with  manly  front, 

The  perils  in  our  track  3 
Who  talks  of  rest  and  peace,  while  yet 

Our  work  is  but  begun  ? 
Who  lays  aside  his  armour, 

Ere  the  battle-field  be  won ! 

Are  the  bondman^  fetters  broken 

Has  the  mother  ceased  her  moan, 
For  the  sold  and  bleeding  children, 

She  may  never  call  her  own  1 
Doth  the  crushed  and  broken  spirit, 

That  man  to  earth  has  trod, 
Stand  erect  in  conscious  freedom, 

As  created  by  our  God  7 

Do  southern  breezes  waft  us 

The  songs  of  jubilee  ? 
Or  the  wail  of  captive  millions, 

Who  are  pining  to  be  free  1 
Has  our  free  soil  been  polluted, 

And  can  we  cease  to  feel, 
With  the  tyrant's  lash  above  us, 

And  his  fetter  on  our  heel  '? 


130  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

No  !     Stamped  with  darkest  infamy 

The  craven  spirit  be, 
That  shrinks  beneath  the  heaviest  load, 

Or  basely  bends  the  knee — 
That  tamely  yields  a  single  right, 

Or  bates  a  single  word 
Of  God's  resistless  truth,  that  yet 

By  tyrants  shall  be  heard. 

Go  strip  thee  for  the  conflict, 

In  God's  holy  name  repair 
To  Freedom's  sacred  shrine,  and  lay 

Thy  cherished  idols  there, 
Guard  well  thy  heart,  distrust  thyself, 

Let  no  accursed  thing 
Pollute  with  earth-born,  selfish  lust, 

The  offering  thou  dost  bring. 

Let  not  thy  spirit  falter ! 

Let  thy  faith  be  firm  and  strong ; 
Though  the  conflict  round  thee  thicken, 

And  the  strife  be  thick  and  long. 
Stand  fast — thy  feet  are  on  a  rock, 

Thy  God  will  be  thy  shield  ; 
Die  like  a  man,  if  die  thou  must, 

But  never  basely  yield  ! 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

[From  the  Philadelphia  Times.] 

86    LINES,  ON   THE   DEATH   OF  MAJOR 
RINGGOLD. 

BY  EDWARD  H.  DAVIS. 

Oh  !  heard  ye  that  shout  7  "  We  have  conquered 
the  foe  i"  [plain  ! 

How  it  rings  and  re-echoes  o*er  mountain  and 
But,  alas !  with  it  mingles  the  sad  note  of  woe — 

"  A  hero  has  perished  ! — brave  Ringgold  is  slain  !" 

They  have  laid  him  to  rest  on  a  far  distant  shore, 
Where  the  Rio  del  Norte  in  its  majesty  flows, 

And  millions  of  freemen  his  loss  will  deplore, 
And  weep  o'er  the  spot  where  his  ashes  repose 

Though  dimmed  is  the  eye  of  the  hero,  forever. 
And  hushed  is  his  voice  in  the  stillness  of  death, 

His  spirit  will  hover  around  those  who  never 
Deserted  their  leader  till  life's  latest  breath. 

When  round  them  like  hail,  the  death-storm  shall 
rattle, 

And  the  war-cloud  in  darkness  envelope  the  plain, 
His  voice  will  be  heard  o'er  the  din  of  the  battle. 

Till  victory  perch  on  their  banners  again. 

His  name  shall  live  on  when  the  struggle  has  ceased. 

And  "grim  visaged  war"  from  our  borders  has  flown, 
When  the  era  of  freedom  has  so  far  increased, 

That  its  bounds  can  be  traced  on  the  ocean  alone. 


132  NATIONAL     SONGS. 


[From  the  Philadelphia  Inquirer  ] 
§7  COMBAT  OF  RESACA  DE  LA  PALM  A. 

BY  GEORGE  W.  DEWEY. 

Morning  broke  upon  the  martial  train, 
Column  upon  column  of  glittering  arms 
Long  lined  the  road,  and  spread  the  plain, 
While  rattling  drums  rolled  forth  alarms ; 
Each  freeman,  of  his  country  proud, 
And  sharing  in  her  well-earned  fame, 
Pressed  bravely  on,  while  clarion  loud, 
With  shrillest  blasts  their  breasts  in  flame. 

Fast  onward  moved  the  warlike  band, 

Till  further  route  strong  foes  denied, 

Who  proudly  for  their  "  God  and  Native  Land," 

Their  standards  to  the  breeze  flung  wide. 

Then  the  fast  manceuvering — the  quick  deploy, 

The  rolling  cannon,  and  rumbling  cars — 

The  wild,  enthusiastic  shout  of  joy, 

When  waved  en  high  our  "  Stripes  and  Stars." 

The  fiash — the  smoke — the  artillery  roar ; 
The  answering  volley  from  front  and  rear: 
The  wounded — slain — the  bloody  gore. 
Yet,  on  they  rushed,  nor  thought  of  fear. 
The  wreathing  smoke  in  columns  black, 
From  burning  grass,  becloud  the  foe, — 
The  broken  ranks— the  fierce  attack, 
The  shout  of  victory,  and  the  wail  of  woe. 


NATIONAL    SONGS. 

The  charging  cavalry — its  brave  defeat, 
The  firm  repulse  by  well-aimed  fire, 
The  wild  disorder — the  foes  retreat, 
As  from  the  ravine,  they  retire ; 
The  hot  pursuit— the  "  thicket  fight" — 
No  longer  bold  defiance  hurled, — 
The  well- won  pass,  by  valorous  might, 
The  captured  standards  closely  furled. 

All  this,  all  these,  the  "  Pride  of  war," 
Soon  ceased  upon  that  bloody  field, 
With  gloom  unlit  by  moon  or  star, 
Night  threw  her  mantle  o'er  the  shield. 
Brave  heroes  slain,  now  cold  in  death, 
Around  in  solemn  silence  lay, 
Their  country's  name  with  dying  breath, 
They  uttered  last — then  passed  away. 

Our  country  mourns  the  noble  dead, 
Who  fell  upon  that  glorious  day  ; 
Whose  fame  upon  her  'scutcheon  spread, 
Enshrined  by  love  can,  ne'er  decay  ; 
Whose  death  their  deeds  immortal  made, 
And  wrote  their  names  her  annals  on  ; 
In  language  of  the  gleaming  blade, 
Which  long  shall  live,  tho'  they  are  gone. 

Philadelphia,  Sept.  9,  1846. 
12 


NATIONAL     SONGS. 

[From  the  Harrisburg  Argus.] 
88  WE'LL    NEVER  GIVE   UP. 

BY  H.  PETRIKIN. 

We'll  never  give  up  an  inch  of  our  soil, 

Or  surrender  a  foot  of  our  land, 
Jl  tyrants  attempt  our  domain  to  despoil, 

We  '11  arm  at  the  word  of  command, 
With  Taylor  as  Chief,  we  '11  rush  to  the  fight, 
And  seal  with  our  blood  our  devotion  to  right, 
Our  motto  shall  be, 
"  Enlarg'd  Liberty !" 
Our  watchword — u  We  'll  never  give  up  !" 

Our  land  is  the  home  of  the  free  and  the  brave, 

Our  flag,  the  protection  of  all 
Who  scorn,  like  our  fathers,  to  wear,  like  a  slave, 

The  fetters  that  cankers  and  thrall ; 
No,  we  'll  never  give  up,  but  on  to  the  fight, 
That  tyrants  may  know  our  devotion  to  right, — 
Our  motto  shall  be, 
"  Enlarg'd  Liberty !" 
Our  watchword — "  We  'll  never  give  up  !" 

1  From  the  east  to  the  west  blow  the  trumpet  to 
arms, 

Through  the  land  let  the  sound  of  it  flee," 
In  the  north  and  the  south,  light  beacon  alarms, 

To  stir  up  the  brave  and  the  free : 


t 

NATIONAL     SONGS.  135 

Like  our  fathers  of  old,  let  us  on  to  the  fight, 
To  bleed  in  defence  of  justice  and  right : — 
Our  motto  shall  be, 
"Enlarg'd  Liberty!" 
Our  watchword — "  We  'll  never  give  up  !" 

We  'll  never  give  up,  while  there's  foam  on  the 
sea, 
Or  leaves  on  our  tall  forest  ti^ees, 
No  son  of  our  soil,  terror-stricken  will  flee, 

While  the  battle-cry  wafts  on  the  breeze : — 
For  Texas  is  ours — not  an  inch  of  its  soil 
By  the  dead  which  it  holds,  shall  despots  despoil, — 
Our  war-cry  shall  be, 
"  It  belongs  to  the  free," 
Our  watchword — "  We  'll  never  give  up  !" 

The  soil  which  has  drank  the  blood  of  the  brave, 

Is  part  of  their  deeds  of  renown ; 
What  craven  would  dare  to  relinquish  the  grave, 

Of  Ringgold  and  Cochran  and  Brown : — 
No,  we'll  never  give  up  the  spot  where  they  sleep, 
There  Liberty's  sons  their  vigils  shall  keep, — 
Their  motto  shall  be, 
"  Enlarg'd  Liberty !" 
Their  watchword — "  We  'll  never  give  up  !" 


I 

136  NATIONAL     SONGS. 

[From  the  Flag  of  Our  Union.] 

89  OUR    COUNTRY'S   FLAG. 

Our  starry  and  our  striped  Flag ! 
Our  Country's  boast,  our  Nation's  pride ! 
It  is  a  theme  that  ne'er  shall  flag 
Long  as  the  flow  of  freedom's  tide. 

It  is  a  theme  that- well  may  swell 

With  rapture  more  than  tongue  can  tell, 

The  patriot's  heart,  the  poet's  pen, 

Bound  by  that  mystic  freedom's  spell ; 

The  orator  in  freedom's  cause, 

The  soldier  with  his  sheathed  sword, 

The  advocate  of  equal  laws, 

The  farmer  on  his  blood-stained  sward, 

Shall  for  a  theme  in  want  ne'er  be 

So  long  as  waves  on  yonder  tree 

That  Flag ;  the  Flag  of  Liberty ! 

Proud  offspring  of '  no  taxed  tea,' 
Should  tyrants  haughty  now  become, 
And  boast  and  banter  with  their  brags, 
To  cool  their  ardor  freedom's  sons 
Will  point  them  to  our  starry  Flag. 
The  monarchs  of  the  Eastern  world 
Would,  if  they  could,  in  nook  or  crag, 
Bury,  and  from  existence  hurl 
Their  mortal  hate,  our  striped  Flag. 


NATIONAL     SONGS.  1^7 

In  former  times,  some  tyrants  bold 
Did  scornful  term  '  a  heap  of  rags' 
(For  quiet's  sake  let  it  ne'er  be  told) 
Our  starry  and  our  striped  Flag. 

How  changed  the  scene,  how  different  now, 
Whilst  floating  high  in  foreign  skies, 
They  all  do  meet  it  with  a  bow, 
Still  watching  close  *  our  Eagle's  eyes.' 
Our  Country's  Flag  bespangled  with 
A  bright  array  of  shining  stars, 
Presents  '  the  constellations'  clear, 
To  those  at  home,  to  those  afar. 
Our  Country's  Flag,  of  many  a  stripe 
Composed,  yet  forms  'one  entire  sheet,' 
Cemented  by  a  friendship  ripe 
For  plighted  faith,  always  to  keep. 

This  is  our  Country's  boast  and  pride ; 
This  is  a  theme  that  tyrants  gag ; 
This  is  a  light  the  oppressed  to  guide, 
Our  starry  and  our  striped  Flag. 
Let  tyrants  never  hope  to  force 
From  out  this  constellation  bright, 
A  single  star ;  there  '11  be  *>o  loss. 
A  constant  steady  gain  of  light, 
And  should  they  try  those  seams  to  rend 
That  bind  our  stripes  so  firm  and  fast, 
They  '11  find  they  cannot  gain  their  end  ; 
Those  seams  were  made  fore'er  to  last — 


138  NATIONAL     SONGS/ 

Fit  emblems  of  our  Union's  strength, 
Its  durability  and  length. 

And  tyrants  now  have  learnt  too  late 

Our  Nation's  one,  though  many  a  state. — 

Though  lose  she  wont,  yet  gain  she  will 

New  stars  and  stripes  in  her  career, 

Nor  will  our  Flag  e'er  be  so  filled 

That  none  can  gain  admittance  here. 

Each  other  Flag  of  nations  round 

Has  had  long  since  its  compliment ; 

But  when  '  Our  Country's  Flag'  has  found 

An  issue  to  its  sure  intent, 

Then  will  the  stars  within  her  fold 

Be  equal  to  as  many  parts, 

As  in  the  world  can  then  be  told, 

All  linked  fast  by  freemen's  hearts. 

Youths  of  America  !  I  ween 
You  will  preserve  it  pure  and  neat, 
And  never  let  its  folds  be  seen 
Defiled  beneath  a  tyrant's  feet. 
A  legacy,  it  was  bestowed, 
Without  a  blemish  or  a  spot, 
That  you  might  pass  it  on  to  those 
Who  follow  next,  as  free  from  blot. 
Transmit !     Ah,  yes,  'tis  property 
Entailed  on  ages  yet  to  come, 
On  ultimate  posterity 
And  on  the  last  of  Freedom's  sons. 


NATIONAL    SONGS.  139 

Tis  so  entailed  that  you  may  use 
The  interest  with  perfect  right ; 
The  principal  do  not  abuse, 
Who  does,  is  an  unlucky  wight. 
Let  mortal  ne'er  attempt  to  give 
A  mortgage,  or  incumbrance  place 
Upon  this  boon,  and  think  to  live 
Except  in  exile  or  disgrace. 

Unfurl  your  banner,  let  her  wave 

In  Freedom's  gale,  her  natural  breeze, 

And  never  let  her  hide  a  slave 

Beneath  her  shade,  unjustly  seized  : 

Let  her  an  ensign  always  be 

To  tyrants,  of  redress  for  wrong — 

To  the  oppressed,  of  Liberty, 

And  to  the  brave,  of  courage  strong. 

And  swelling  full  '  Our  Country's  Flag,' 
Ne'er  may  the  breeze  of  Freedom  lag  : 
Long  may  she  wave  o'er  sea  and  crag, 
Our  starry  and  our  striped  Flag. 


TABLE 

OF   FIRST    LINES. 


Americans  protect  your  blood Page  10i 

Arm  for  the  Texan  battle 51 

Arista  was  a  tailor's  goose 122 

Arm,  arm,  sons  of  the  Union 109 

A  voice  comes  o'er  the  stormy  sea 123 

Awake  !  awake,  Americans  awake  ! 119 

Columbia's  mighty  flag  of  Mars 88 

Come  rally  true  Americans 87 

Come  muster  quickly  on  the  seas 97 

Come  border  men  awake  now 118 

Come  citizens  and  Yankee  soldiers 121 

Come  Yankee  lads  that  know  no  fear 106 

Come,  rouse  boys,  rouse,  with  spirits  gay 93 

Come  raise  aloft  the  red  white  and  blue 94 

Come  all  ye  gallant  volunteers 40 

Come,  come  Freemen  arouse,  let  the  faint-hearted 

flee #. 58 

Come  and  listen,  while  I  tell  of  the  battle  that  befel    31 

Death  had  no  pangs — thy  duty  done 15 

'Ere  the  fair  land  of  Texas,  a  star  of  our  flag 92 

Flow  on.  flow  on,  thou  bright  young  banner 103 

Flag  of  my  country — I  view  with  emotion 61 

Freedom  spreads  her  downy  wings Ill 

Gallant  patriots  arm  and  out. 105 

(141) 


142  TABLE    OF    FIRST    LINES. 

"  Give  up  ?"     Who  speaks  the  craven  word  ?. . . .  129 
Grim  visaged  war  had  raised  his  front 66 

Hail  to  the  day,  when  our  country  reposes 38 

Hark!  Freedom's  eagle  loudly  calls 18 

Hark  !  'tis  the  trumpets  call 56 

He  died,  as  brave  men  still  should  die 82 

Ho !  ho  ! — fling  out  our  starry  flag  unto  the  sunny 

sky! 63 

I  fear  no  haughty  nation 101 

I'll  sing  to  you  a  tough  new  song,  made  by  a  tough 

old  pate 115 

I'm  angry  when  a  freeman  sings 81 

I  sing  a  doleful  tragedy 5 

I  would  not  lie  on  bed  of  down 48 

I  wonder  John,  if  you  forget,  some  sixty  years  ago    42 

Morning  broke  upon  the  martial  train 132 

New  stars  of  glory  on  our  ensigns  wave 73 

Noblest  Flag  on  land  or  sea 27 

Now  while  our  cups  are  flowing 52 

No,  stay  not  here,  to  strife  away 25 

O'er  Rio  Grande,  embattled  stream 57 

Oh  !  heard  ye  that  shout  ?     "  We  have  conquered 

the  foe!" 131 

Oh,  Washington,  our  sainted  sire 17 

Oh,  leave  not  his  corse  on  that  wild  battle  plain. .  23 

Oh  !  rend  it  not — still  let  it  wave 34 

Oh,  heard  ye  the  war-note  summoning  us  all 46 

Oh!  had  I  a  beau 126 

i  Oh,  war  now  blows  her  ringing  blast 112 

Oh,  hear  my  dying  prayer,  boys 113 

One  mornin'  bright  and  early 8 


TABLE    OF    FIRST    LINES.  143 

Our  country  ever  !  right  or  wrong 128 

Our  rifles  are  ready  and  ready  are  we 104 

Our  country  !  '  tis  a  glorious  land 65 

Our  God  is  good,  his  works  are  fair 79 

Our  soldiers  on  the  Rio  Grande 72 

Our  starry  and  our  striped  Flag  ! 136 

Out,  out,  pilgrims  out 99 

See  our  torn  flag  still  waving 26 

Seek  it  where  the  battle  cry 71 

Texians  brave,  in  freedom  bred 117 

The  bird  of  light  unfolds  her  wings 10 

The  Spanish  maid,  with  eye  of  fire 45 

The  Mexicans  are  on  our  soil 35 

The  Mexican  bandits 16 

The  stars  of  the  night,  to  the  cannon  responding.  .     60 
There  are  sounds  of  mighty  conflict  by  a  peaceful 

river's  shore 67 

The  blood  of  our  brethren  yet  cries  from  the  ground     1 1 

The  days  of  seventy-six,  my  boys 124 

Tho'  many  and  bright  are  the  stars  that  appear. . .     20 

Thou  ace  of  trumps  in  glory's  pack  ! 127 

To  the  battle,  friends  and  countrymen 49 

To  the  field,  freemen,  freemen,  freemen 91 

M  To  arms,  ye  brave,"  our  country  calls 75 

'Twas  midday  !  and  the  sun  was  bright 83 

Up  Texians,  rouse  hill  and  vale  with  your  cry 110 

Warrior,  rest !  thy  toils  are  ended  : 54 

Wake,  sons  of  Columbia,  by  sea  and  by  land 90 

Walk  in  my  tall  haired  Indian  gal 100 

Wave,  wave  the  banner  high 98 

We  '11  never  give  up  an  inch  of  our  soil 134 


141  TABLE    OF    FIRST    LINES. 

We're  on  our  way  to  Monterey 77 

When  on  the  wide  spread  battle-plain 108 

Why  weep  ye  him  that' s  gone  ? 24 

What  land  seems  so  blest  in  her  General  means..  13 

Where  is  the  true  man's  father  land  ? 76 

Yankees  light  the  fires  bright 95 

Ye  sons  of  Columbia,  who  glory 29 


1 


The  publisher  has  heretofore  printed  in  thr«* 
volumes.  a  collection  of  National  Song*  and  Bal- 
lads— Naval,  Military,  and  Patriotic — containing 
-bout  seven  hundred  pieces.  This  work  was 
originally  put)ii>hed  at  $2.25  a  set.  A  few 
copies  remain  on  hand,  which  are  now  offered  at 
the  reduced  price  of  $1.50  the  set— or  50  cents 
a  volume.  This  is  the  only  complete  collection 
of  American  National  Songs  and  Ballads  ever 
published. 


STEREOTYPE  FOUNDRY. 
MOGRIDGE   AND   M'CARTY, 

HARMONY  COURT OPPOSITE  THE  EXCHANGE,  PHILAD'. 

AB»    PREPARED    TO     BTXCCTK    ALT.     KI5P8    0» 

STEREOTYPING — MUSIC,  fee. 

Jobbing  executed  with  neatness  and  despatch. 


